I woke up this Mother’s Day not to breakfast in bed nor fresh flowers on my bedside table.
No, I woke up this Mother’s Day with Tiddle McGee’s hands firmly clenched around my windpipe.
While not alarmed per se, I was mildly philosophical about it. After all, it’s part of an emerging theme.
Why, just the day beforehand, I’d been walking around with my infant nephew doing my usual thing to entertain fractious babies (which, for the record, generally involves taking their small hands and making them slap me on the forehead). I had been holding him for ten, maybe fifteen, minutes, when Tiddles McGee approached me with a look on his face not entirely unlike Jack Nicholson’s in The Shining.
“I want YOU to carry ME,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
I was so scared, I virtually dropped the baby on the spot.
And then later on Mother’s Day, he presented me with a card with this picture in it, which somewhat scarily evokes that famous ‘shower scene’ from Psycho…
Yep. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Norman Bates was definitely a third child.
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This NDM Lite™ post is a direct result of celebrating Mother’s Day with a seven-and-a-half hour journey door-to-door with my husband and three children. If you have any complaints, you should talk to the hand – namely, the hand that plans to be holding a G&T for most of today.
Nearly made me squirt my coffee out of my nose! Priceless.
I know that hoarse whisper filled with menace NDM! Mr Wriggly uses it to explain the origins of Mr Surprise. And those origins arent Mummy’s tummy, but ‘Adelaidddde’. Wriggly says it just like you’d expect a dirty-speed-filled Snowtowner to say it. But at least he aint drawing pics of me in the shower!!!
“Redrum! Redrum”
*snort* that drawing is gold. And think we’re all feeling a bit light on today. Enjoy your g&ts. I may or may not have consumed a few myself yesterday.
Lite, but it packed a punch. The hoarse whisperer had me guffawing on the train. x
Awesome post – sums up pretty much what having kids is all about!
refreshing to read of the gritty realism of mother’s day in some families.
A Mothers Day gift to cherish forever.
‘a hoarse whisper.’ Ha! Love it.
Ahhhh…..mother’s day. That would be the day I was awoken by a 1 year old biting my nose after sitting on my face didn’t ‘wake’ me enough to get me up at 6am. My slow surfacing to alertness was accompanied by a growing awareness of the whimpering of my constipated 8 year old next door. I proceeded to quickly dress in the night before’s clothes and attempt to get said 8 year old to drink fluids and was met with the same resistance as every day for the previous week thus spent the next 6 hours at the children’s hospital mopping the brow of said uncomfortable child, who did not.stop.whimpering until it.was.all.over. Upon returning home my husband indicated he’d had enough of looking after the other children on his own and proceeded to sulk and grizzle about the home duties he’d been doing for me all weekend (while I was working and looking after a sick child in hospital). And, the 4 year old who was gently reminded that it was in fact mummy’s special day and did she perhaps have something hiding in her Kinder bag said No! Aaaahhhhh….mother’s day.
” cc]’;]
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\/’”??????????? p Ahhh…mother’s day.
My 3-yr-old recently instructed me to ‘do the bum-dance mummy’ in the shower while videoing me on the iPhone.
I didn’t dare not do as ordered… but leapt out of the shower seconds later to delete it before she ‘accidentally’ emailed it.
I think they’re conspiring against us…
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
FanTAStic.
My lesser half gave me a piece of artwork that he had * clearly * coveted for himself. For my birthday I am expecting a socket set, golf clubs or some such piece of man-child equipment. ‘Nuff said.
LOL Oh my god. Is that what I have to look forward too?! I’m so scared. So very, very scared.
As this is a *lite* post, I shall only make a lite comment. Er ,that was it…..
According to Wikipedia Norman Bates was based on a murderer named Ed Gein. This is what wikipedia had to say on his relationship with his mother, Augusta Gein:
“Augusta Gein, a fervent Lutheran, preached to her boys the innate immorality of the world, the evil of drinking, and the belief that all women (herself excluded) were prostitutes and instruments of the devil. She reserved time every afternoon to read to them from the Bible, usually selecting graphic verses from the Old Testament dealing with death, murder, and divine retribution…
“…Gein tried to make his mother happy, but she was rarely pleased with her boys; she often abused them, believing that they were destined to become failures like their father. During their teens and throughout their early adulthood, the boys remained detached from people outside of their farmstead, and so had only each other for company.”
!!!