Wednesday, October 7, 2009

ALL FUN AND GAMES TIL SOMEONE LOSES THEIR HEAD.


It is oh so cute to see a two year old play make believe by themselves. Rare occurrence in my household.


Jack seems almost incapable of amusing himself. Some kids do some kids don’t, so when I noticed him huddled in the corner and overheard him saying “You sit here wif me awewight or I'll get vewy angwy”, I had to have a covert look.

I thought, I was sure to find him with two power rangers having words over a misused sword or possibly even, two of his elder sisters bratz getting a stern talking to about their skanky behaviour the previous night. Not so.



What I found was far more sinister and frankly, hilarious.

It started a couple of days before when I saw Jack, the human tornado, line up a dead Christmas beetle and roll over it with the front tyre of his trike. Took the head clean off. Unbeknownst to me, he then went and hid this lovely treasure. Clearly he had plans for the headless one.


We found another Christmas beetle which was on it’s last legs on the weekend . It had just enough kick in it to grab your finger with it’s prickly legs. This scared the bejesus out of Jack, so of course my husband thought it was freaking hilarious to continue placing it on his neck. All fun and games until the 2 year old learns the power of “accidently” headbutting you in the goolies.

So to keep him appeased, Jack and I did a special ops mission and delivered the half-dead beetle safely back to the garden. Or so I thought.




Huddled in the corner, sitting on a barbie dolls lounge chair, were both the headless beetle and the half dead beetle. And clearly headless had been up to no good from the tone of Jack’s voice. I’m not sure what barely alive could have been getting cross with headless for. Losing his mind? Not turning up to the Sunday Roast? And what could she possibly be threatening headless with. Death? Too late sunshine.

This continued for a while and I went away, had a giggle to myself and wondered what this meant. Is he going to be deranged? A dictator? Would he grow up to work with less fortunate? No, I think he's just simply, a normal little boy.

Hey, When I was a kid, I used to make pencils get together to make nuclear famlies and have family meetings. I clearly have no right to judge.


And anyway, it sure beats the day I snuck up on him and he’d pulled the poo out of his undies to paint me a picture on the wall. Actually most anything beats that day.

7 comments:

miss carly said...

omg. i have tears. and they are streaming. not to mention this weird arse chuckle that really is nothing like normal cause i cannot breathe through my nose.

that is gold. pure gold.

i would frame that and give it to him on his 18th!

xx

The NDM said...

Very funny post, Bern.

I have two things to say in response:

1. Poo painting is always a peak that very few people care to climb again.

2. Funnily enough, my daughter often personifies her textas. They go shopping together and bitch about which ones amidst their ranks have dried up. Much like the women folk of Double Bay or Kew, methinks.

kurrabikid said...

Yeah. I can imagine the poo painting day must have been a REAL LOW in your house ...!!

So Now What? said...

At least you know you're daugther is going to turn out normal - look at how I turned out. *head twitch*

Mama Mogantosh said...

Future entymologist, I think. So far I have escaped the poo-painting phase, but Ivy will only answer to the name Anthony, as much as I try to tell her that I didn't give birth to a middle-aged, perma-tanned Italian man.

The only thing that makes me sad is to think that one day they'll grow out of this magical behaviour.

Cute post!

Aussie-waffler said...

Hilarious post Bern, the image of Headless and Half-Dead reclining in a Barbie lounge will have me giggling all through the Witching Hour. Well, that image and the fact that I go a little insane at this hour, but thanks for the laugh anyway.

Wanderlust said...

Oh, that's classic. I don't blame half-dead. I can't imagine finding much to like in headless beetle either. She could do better. Much.