Sarah and I wouldn’t profess to being neat freaks, or perfectionists, but we do have a habit of cleaning our little one quite frequently. If he spills some ‘din dins’ down his top / face / floor we tend to pounce on it with a baby wipe with the speed of a gazelle. If he gets his trousers wet when he manages to turn on the tap of the garden water butt, we would tend to whip him upstairs and change his trousers and socks. Generally our little one looks quite clean and tidy.

Except when we pick him up from nursery.

For on arrival at nursery on a Monday (he just does the one day at the moment) he is generally out in the ‘garden’ area and generally resembles a character from Oliver Twist. Or one of the chimney sweeps from Mary Poppins. Or someone that has been living with wolves for the past year. Or David Dickinson.

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‘He’s had a really good day’ they always say, which seems to be code for ‘He’s rolled around in the mud like a pig in shit for the past 4 hours’. Yesterday his face was muddier than a wet Glastonbury Festival, and this was expertly accented by green paint which adorned his cheek like a colour-blind clown. To complete the ensemble, his clothes were covered in enough food to sustain a person for at least a week. ‘He had two lots of lunch’ they said – probably because he smooshed the first helping into his clothes like a bear pawing at a jar of honey.

‘He did some painting today’ they said. No shit, Sherlock, I’d never have guessed. Did you run out of paper and use his face as a canvas for the other children?

Anyway, I think I’ve made the point, so I won’t labour it any further…

Today was a day spent in the garden. As my dad was busily fitting our utility room units, I was hacking seven shades of shit out of some of the trees and bushes in our garden, like an axe-wielding psychopath and my mum was helping Joshua climb ladders and use garden implements like only grandparents can.

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For those of you that have never tackled a laurel that has been completely overtaken by brambles I would recommend avoiding that particular joy like the plague. Brambles are arseholes. Spiteful, vicious, demonic arseholes intent on ripping your hands and arms to shreds with their stupid, shitty spikes. What the hell are brambles for?! Why do people let them grow in their gardens?!

‘Oh look dear, we have some tiny brambles starting to grow next to that bush. Shall I snip them off and dig them up?’

‘No dear, let them grow for 10 years, so some poor unsuspecting bastard can tackle them when they move in’

After about 3 hours of snipping / sawing / chopping / twatting the arsing brambles we were left with a massive spiky pile of tree and a sheer volume of bush not seen since 1970s porn films. I was personally left with arms that resemble a teenager’s first attempt at shaving and a generally grumpy disposition. But at least it looks a lot better now, and is one less thing for the little one to injure himself on…

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Unfortunately during the process we instilled a fear of ‘spikes’ into the little one, by constantly saying ‘Joshua – keep away from the spikes – they are painful – ouch – hurt – don’t touch!!’ Little did we know (given that he completely ignored us!!) that this would manifest itself in him being afraid of his pyjama top.

The last pyjama top in the drawer tonight had George Pig on and Mr Dinosaur, with Mr Dinosaur having ‘spikes’ that protrude out of the shoulder. It’s pretty cool.

However, once I put the top on him and said, ‘Oh look, it’s Mr Dinosaur with his spikes’ the little one burst into tears and kept saying ‘Ouch – spikes – hurt – finger’.

Balls.

After lots of demonstrating that the spikes were actually soft and furry and having rebranded them to ‘points’ all was well again and he settled down for a nice snooze!

Clearly our little one does listen to us – he just hides it incredibly well!!

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Mouse Moo and Me Too
Filth I Tell You!!
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16 thoughts on “Filth I Tell You!!

  • 13th July 2016 at 10:10 am
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    Loved this! I remember my girls coming home from nursery in a right mess and bizarrely wearing another child’s clothes on some occasions because they ‘couldn’t find’ the spares that I had provided. Rebranding of spikes is a great idea – I may try it with wasps and spiders which still cause hysterical outbursts in my house despite the fact my kids are 18,14 and 10! #BloggerClubUK

    • 13th July 2016 at 10:43 am
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      Spiders are always ‘Mr Skinny Legs’ in our house because of Peppa Pig!! He doesn’t seem to mind them so far which is a bonus as he will be the one getting rid of them on our behalf when he gets older because we hate them ?? Thanks for reading and commenting!

  • 13th July 2016 at 1:29 pm
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    Brambles are complete arseholes, ’tis true! This would really bug me about coming home from nursery filthy. I often send mine in with several spare outfits but they never come back dirty, just wet from my son’s obsession with water. They have even laundered some clothes for me before too! #bloggerclubuk

    • 13th July 2016 at 2:06 pm
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      We always pop a spare outfit in his bag but it’s always still unworn when we pick him up! And brambles really need to have a long hard think about their actions methinks. Thanks for commenting!

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  • 13th July 2016 at 9:20 pm
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    Nursery dirt is the worst! Although I always think it shows my daughter did much more exciting things there then she would at home with me! Painting and mud kitchen in one day? *shudder* #bloggerclubuk

    • 13th July 2016 at 9:38 pm
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      The concept of a mud kitchen is enough to send me running for the hills!! There was talk of digging for worms too ?? Thanks for your comment!

  • 15th July 2016 at 7:55 am
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    This is so funny. Our garden wasn’t the best when we moved in and the dead pets Mr J found when digging it, bleurgh!! Glad the spike disaster was swerved!! #effitfriday

    • 15th July 2016 at 8:42 am
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      Dead pets?! Bleurgh!! Hopefully they were buried and not just sitting there?! Thanks for being so complimentary ?

  • 15th July 2016 at 7:21 pm
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    Ha I love that it’s not just us that can’t trust the grandparents not to let the kids lose with all manner of deadly implements- I swear they do it on purpose!! Usually after they’ve fed them an entire box of Sugar Puffs ? Youch! Good work with those brambles, brave soldier! #effitfriday

    • 15th July 2016 at 9:53 pm
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      I haven’t been called a brave soldier for a few years – I quite like it!! I need to get the little one trained up properly for when they grow back!! Thanks for the comment.

  • 15th July 2016 at 8:55 pm
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    In my negligible experience taming my garden (actual, not a 1970’s porn reference), brambles PENETRATE GLOVES! Anything that goes through a waxy gardening glove is way beyond redemption. Nuke the whole damn bush and start again with a non-thorny specimen. Coax the boy back in gradually, he’ll be a Titchmarsh yet. Very funny post for #effitfriday, thank for sharing!

    • 15th July 2016 at 10:00 pm
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      Porn and penetrate and bush in the same comment?! We will be ripping it all out and putting something more friendly there – and an extension!! No place for brambles in our garden…

  • 15th July 2016 at 8:57 pm
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    Just popped back to say when I pick up my child from pre-school, I can tell a tomato soup / beans on toast combo day at 50 paces. Damn white t-shirts.

    • 16th July 2016 at 12:24 am
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      If you’re using white for nursery wear I’ve no sympathy, by the way ??

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