Tag Archives: kids

Two Temper Tantrums and a Packet of Crisps…

Posted on by
5

I witnessed this week the thing the thing that most mums dread and all will have experienced at one point or other – the public temper tantrum.

This one was conducted by a small lad, not much older than my three year daughter, in Sainsburys. He was lying on the floor – face down in a star position screaming:

“I WANT POOH…!!”

I assumed he was referring to a promotional toothpaste, biscuit or toilet roll. Not an actual piece of faecal matter

The poor frazzled mum was trying hard to remain calm and focused, as the customers around her glared and tutted (apart from the parents of toddlers – we just shot her sympathetic looks and inwardly felt relief that it wasn’t us – THIS TIME)

I relayed this story later to a friend, describing the snot ridden boy and the fact that most people were horrified by his quite normal behaviour.

She laughed and proceeded to tell about her recent experience on a bus (yes – I know, another bus story) when her daughter kicked off. A woman in front of her took exception to the little girl’s tears and turned round, asking my friend not so politely if she could “quieten her down”

My friend, feeling a bit uncomfortable and wanting to avoid confrontation, dug around in her bag and found a bag of Wotsits which she decided would “do the job”

And they did, as the girl munched away happily not making a sound. That was until a huge sneeze overcame her and made her cry again.

This wasn’t so bad, as the nasty woman got off at the next stop – complete with tiny flecks of Wotsits stuck in her perfectly blow-dried hair.

My friend didn’t have the heart (or courage) to tell her.

Maybe people should learn to be more tolerant…

Yummy Mummies Hunt in Packs..

Posted on by
Reply

Mandi/Parola Panty Bag - Yummy Mummy by bambina bambina

a photo by bambina bambina on Flickr.

Well I did it today, I entered the world of the Yummy Mummies – and Jesus, I hated it. Every single bloody second.

The venue was a local toddler group, where I know my babies would be able to play happily for a while. But, I also knew that it contained that species of woman that I tended to avoid out of fear and envy. And today they were there – in a pack.

The baby room was fine, I settled my dribbling son (currently averaging 15 dribble bibs a day) and felt fairly relaxed. My daughter was also happy enough, careering up and down on a little car in the toddler room – singing Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds at the top of her voice (her current favourite).

I was that relaxed in fact that I felt brave enough to venture into the kitchen to grab a cuppa…

Of course, My radar should have been on. I should have known they were there. That small clique of perfectly preened women with designer clothes and not a hair out of place, taking up nearly every square inch of the small kitchen.

Even worse, they were pregnant…

Why was it that, when I was pregnant, I looked and felt like complete s**t. I mean, honestly, people used to look at me with pity. My hair was always greasy, my skin dull, and pregnancy clothes just made me look shapeless and frumpy.

These women looked like the ones you see in the magazines that I avoided throughout my 9 months of hell. They were glowing so much I was surprised British Gas hadn’t harnessed an electrify supply off of them.

Even worse, when I eased myself into the room – they stopped their conversation and did that “eye up and down” thing that women in packs do. I felt like a smelly reptile that had just wandered into the pack.

I smiled sweetly and squeezed myself into the corner, where a similar meek looking woman was making coffee. We exchanged pitying glances and breathed inward sighs of relief when their conversation resumed without us.

And the conversation itself? Well it was about the varying sizes of their expanding cervixes. I was looking at my soggy teabag and starting to feel quite nauseous.

My hell was put to end when my daughter charged in and declared “Mummy I need a poo!”

Well, at least she didn’t say s**t!