More Kiddy Quips

Living with my kids is like house-sharing with a comedy trio.

The conversations in my home make me routinely shoot coffee out of my nose. I’m pretty sure their comic dialogue is some kind of evolutionary survival instinct thing. It certainly saves my sanity on those “Mama is losing her mind” days.

For the record: Miss M is nine; Little Man is seven; and Baby G is four years old. Enjoy!

Just last week, this conversation took place while I was driving the girls to dancing. It led to me nearly crashing into a tree:

Baby G: Muuuum, do I come from China?
Me: No, you’re Australian, Sweetie.
Baby G: But Miss M says I come from China.
Miss M: I did NOT say she comes from China! I said she came out of your VAGINA!

Then there was the daycare Christmas party. Santa was about to arrive, when Baby G pulled me close and whispered urgently in my ear,

“Mum, when Santa comes, don’t tell him we’re Jewish!!”

If that didn’t melt my heart, then the first thing Baby G said to me on Monday morning did. She came to my bed, breathed in my face, smiled and asked,

“Does my voice smell nice?”

Little Man is funny without knowing it. Besides me, he is the most scatter-brained person I know. Getting him ready for school usually involves me asking him to get dressed, then coming back to him twenty minutes later to find a boy with one sock half on playing Star Wars with his hands as ships.

A couple of weeks ago, he proudly told me he was ready to go to school and we had this conversation:

Me: Have you brushed your teeth, brushed your hair and made your bed?
Little Man: Yes…except I forgot to brush my hair and do my bed. And also my teeth.

Oh, yes, mornings are a hoot at my house. Especially while unknotting curly hair, nagging half-dressed kids, and packing lunches, I have conversations like this:

Baby G: Mummy, when I getted out of your tummy, what did you say to me?
Me: I said, ‘Hello Baby G! Nice to meet you!’
Baby G: But, how did you know my name?

Sometimes while wrestling Little Man into school clothes (because he is still fighting the Dark Forces instead of getting ready), he lets me in on some deep and meaningful thoughts, like this:

Little Man: When I grow up, I might marry Emma, Sara or Amy.
Me: How will you choose?
Little Man: Well, Emma is a good dancer, Sara is a good speller and Amy is a good reader.
Me: Hmmmm…tough choice.
Little Man: I think I’ll choose Emma, because even though it’s important to read and spell, I heard the most important thing in marriage is flexibility, and Emma can do the splits.

Well, he is right. Marriage is all about flexibility. As is motherhood. Something I didn’t know going into this parenting gig is just how flexible we mums have to be. For example, we need to be able to have conversations through toilet doors. Of course, this is only once we’ve mastered the art of actually getting to be in the bathroom alone. If you’re not there yet, be patient, Grasshopper.

Baby G has clued on to this going-to-the-toilet-alone concept, and last week insisted I wait outside when she went:

Baby G: Mum, don’t come in and don’t look, okay?
Me: Okay, but why?
Baby G: Because I am doing privacy.

There are also those delicious conversations where words are mixed-up and mispronounced in the most delightful way:

“Mum, I need a tissue! My nose is sweating!”

And this…

Baby G: Mum, help me! My lips are trapped!
Me: (Alarmed) What do you mean they’re trapped? How? Where?
Baby G: (Pouting) Look. I licked them too much and now I need lip-balm, Mama. They’re trapped!

After a moment, the penny dropped. If I could make four years old last longer, I would. Baby G’s innocence and total self-belief fills me with awe. These little observations of hers put a smile on my face:

After measuring me from head to toe with a tape measure, she solemnly declared,

“Mum, you weigh half past quarter to seven!”

“You’re never going to be a granny, Mum. Only old people can be grannies. You will always be a little mummy because you have straight skin.”

“Mummy, your bike has 2 wheels, so it’s called a bicycle. My bike has 3 wheels, so it’s called a bitriple.”

She was so proud, I couldn’t bring myself to correct her. Yep, this kid has nailed cute. Even when she’s being naughty:

Baby G: Muuu..uuum! You must just go in the study, okay? I will tell you to come out later. Don’t come out until I say come out.
Me: But why?
Baby G: Because I don’t want you to see me stealing a lolly.

Little Man, being older and wiser (at age 7), has nailed cute AND honest. When I put on a two-piece (first time this summer and NOT a fun experience), Little Man walked in. His face lit up in a giant grin and he exclaimed,

“You look so nice in your giant bikini!”

Now, not only is he cute and honest, Little Man is also very knowledgeable and takes it upon himself to educate his little sister.

A few weeks back, he was looking at a book about Australia. Baby G saw a photo of the Sydney Opera House and asked him what it was. With utter conviction and great authority, he replied,

“This is the Sydney Opera House. The President of America lives there. It’s in Hawaii.”

There are a lot of funny conversations in my house, and I cherish them all and write them all down for fear of forgetting them. I’m so glad I do, because every now and then, one like this happens and I grin from ear to ear. These are the ones I treasure the most:

Miss M: Are we rich, Mum?
Me: Well, what does rich mean?
Miss M: I think it means you have everything you want in the world
Me: Okay, then. So, do you think we’re rich?
Miss M: I think we are the richest, Mum, because we have lots of people who we love and who love us and that means we have everything we want in the world.

I would love to hear the funny and beautiful things your children have said, so please write them down in the comments section below.

Michelle is a copywriter, artist and mum of three children under ten. Read more of Michelle’s work at They Call Me Mummy.