This evening, Roo took ages to go to sleep. Ages. She’d read her books and watched the lava lamp, but by the time we’d finished dinner, she was crying into her pillow. Fortunately we are visiting my Mum, which means my sister is around, and there is nothing my kid likes more than a good late night chinwag with her aunt.
Megan just came downstairs chuckling to herself. She’d been talking nonsense with Roo, and they’d been making up words. Ruby had turned around and said,
“What did you say?” Megan had exclaimed. I’d like to say she was shocked at such an angelic child could have such a potty mouth, but that would be an untruth. As sweet as she looks, Roo has been known to swear in her four short years. Once even at nursery when, aged two, she refused to join in by exclaiming ‘NO, FUCK” to her key person. Anyway, I know exactly where she got shitface from; my lovely Granny. She’s the best, most hilarious lady I know. She is mischievous and has grown old wonderfully disgracefully. She is the matriarch of the family and is fiercely protective of all of us. We are her pack. She also says all sorts of inappropriate things infront of my kids, including the odd swearword, but always accompanied by a cheeky wink.
“Honeybunch” Ruby giggled. Cleverly omitting shitface.
“And what was the other word?”
“…Shitface”, she whispered.
“You can’t say that, Ruby, it’s a naughty word. What do you think it means?”
“It means Haribo heart sweets, in French”
…Oh really? Sixty-five million French people might just disagree with you there, poppet.
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