Those funny little things...

The thing I love the most about the Gremlins is their ability to make me laugh and not take life too seriously.  There's no better way to start the day on a sunny morning than dancing around the kitchen to One Direction in our pyjamas. Owen sings with an American accent (oddly) while Ava head bangs and I pretend that I actually have some rhythm. Ava thinks there's nothing funnier in the world than making farty noises into a plastic cup and Owen thinks there's nothing funnier than doing it for real (Dad also shares this view).

 

They also come out with some cracking questions such as: "Do zombies eat tomatoes?" and "Can Gran fly?" A friend's five year old boy insists on being called "Mr Candyfloss" and when asked to go to bed cries, "You've ruined my life!"

 

Sometimes the innocent anecdotes and observations from the mouths of our babes would have us run and hide, while we shake our heads and deny any genetic connection, but they always give us a good giggle afterwards. For example, in the changing room at our local swimming pool, a rather plump woman walked past us in her bathing costume...so of course Owen followed her with his eyes then pointed and loudly proclaimed, "oooOOOooo she's big!" Horrified (and feeling sorry for the poor woman) I hid behind a locker and pretended my son belonged to someone else.

 

Owen rather enjoys saying what he sees. While trying to get Dad's watch fixed at the jewellers Owen pulled on my sleeve whilst staring at the man behind the counter and said -

Owen: (in clear earshot) Mammy that man has no hair

Me to Man: (playing plan ignore) Okay, so how much will that be?

Owen: (louder) MAMMY I said that man has no hair

Me: Okay Owen, thank you

Owen: But Mam he has NO hair!

Me: Okay Owen, that's not polite but I heard you

Owen: Why does he have no hair Mam? Is it because he's old?

Me: No...Daddy has no hair remember

Owen: But Daddy is only 30. This man is old. I think its because he's old.

Needless to say, the price quoted for fixing the watch was incredibly high and we didn't get it done. I think the man was even less impressed when Owen began licking the glass of the jewellery counter.

Our funny little Gremlins also like to make sure that you never look like a good mother in front of your friends. We decided to have a play date with an old friend and her two (very polite and well behaved) daughters at the park. While my friend was telling me about the joys of being a full-time mother and a leader at The Girl's Brigade, Owen stomps over disgruntled and states, "That bitch is in my castle". Let the sand pit swallow me up. Ava recently had her two-year-old development check from the Health Visitor and within a minute of her stepping through the front door the Gremlins ran into the room hacking at each other with Owen shouting "Mam I've got a gun and Ava has a knife and I'm going to chop her up and feed her to the hamster." Cue awkward silence and polite smiles from the Health Visitor who was probably on the phone to social services as soon as she got in her car.

When putting our weekly shop on the conveyor belt at Asda, Owen held up a pack of sanitary towels and told the male shop assistant that these are Mammy's nappies because she doesn't go to the toilet before she goes to bed.

Then Owen developed a habit of "playing dead" - a part of his new fascination with death. He would lie in the middle of the floor with his tongue poking out of his mouth and if you absently stepped over him he'd croak, "Mammy...I'm dead." The response was usually "okay son". Then he did it at school. The Grandparents' house. The park. And in the middle of shops. One day, I arranged to go to my Slimming World group whilst English Grandad took the Gremlins to the soft play downstairs. Suddenly one of the play workers came running into the room and told me I had to "come quick" because Owen had collapsed on the bouncy castle. I ran to my little boy who was sobbing his heart out on English Grandad's knee. Apparently he'd been bouncing happily then "nobody saw what happened" but suddenly he was motionless on his back with his tongue poking out and was completely "out of it". Ava went home with English Grandad, I called Dad at work and we raced Owen to hospital to get checked over, with visions of epilepsy and brain tumours swirling around in my head. We were sat in the waiting room of A&E when suddenly it dawned... I sat Owen on my knee, promising that he wouldn't be in any trouble and asked him if he'd been pretending? It turned out that he'd been "shot by an alien" and when he opened his eyes he had four shocked looking panicky grown ups staring at him and flapping - he freaked out - he ran around for about ten seconds trying to get away from them - which panicked them even more - then one of them told him he couldn't go back on the bouncy castle (for health and safety reasons as he had just "collapsed") so he'd burst into tears. That was the end of "playing dead" and of visiting that particular soft play.

(Owen playing dead on a disused railway line at a museum....as you do)

 



Of course Dad likes to get in on the act at regular intervals with his twisted sense of humour, enjoying nothing more than seeing me squirm with embarrassment at every given opportunity, especially in front of my family. For any family gathering my mother (English Granny) usually makes a steak or a corned beef pie. Before any family gathering, Dad will ask..."Are you bringing your pie Gran? I love your pie. Its always moist. The best tasting pie I've ever had. I love the way the juice slides between the gap in my front teeth..." English Granny looks so pleased, thinking that my husband really loves his corned beef and when she asks "do you want a big piece?" he replies, "DO I?!!!!" (Sorry Mam).

My Stepdad (English Grandad) is quite a straight, proper fella who says the occasional soft swear word but winces at the topic of sex. English Grandad and Dad were enjoying a pint one night and English Grandad asked if Dad was staying out for another? Dad replied, "no, if I'm home before eleven I get to do your daughter" and then proceeded to tell him that Friday is experiment night and the starter tonight is naked hide and seek. I'm so glad I wasn't there to see him choke on his pint.

English Granny and I were sat in the living room one night talking, when Dad walked through in his underpants carrying a pair of latex gloves and a can of WD40 and said "coming to bed love?"

So although I spend a great deal of my time stressing out, organising, planning and panicking, and the rest of it trying to hide under a table, behind a locker or in a sandpit, I'm grateful that my funny little family has the ability to make me laugh and enjoy life as that has to be the most important thing.

And I'm also grateful that Ava can't talk properly yet.