Thursday, 16 June 2011
Things the wee fella says ...
It’s that time – time for the pearls of wisdom that drop from the mouth of my 13 year old son like, well, pearls.
The wee fella said – after I gave him a good morning hug as he approached the breakfast table (well, THE table. I don’t have a table for like, every meal) – Daaad, your breath stinks – pause – and your teeth are yellow.
Me – that was harsh.
The wee fella grins – it’s called tough love – grins even wider and finishes with – Bitch!
It’s my latest health kick (for the record I’m 24 pounds lighter since Easter. Go me!) and I give myself one day per week off the healthy stuff and eat absolutely anything I want. On this occasion I had a pizza – grand pan, meat feast – from a well known pizza chain. I’d mention them by name but I want some freebies first. (You know who you are. See my agent. Please.) Washed down with lashings of cola. From another well known company. Same rules apply, Company Beginning with P.
I was munching into said pizza and fancied a wee top up to my cola. The cola was in the kitchen. I couldn’t be arsed going for it. I never ask the wee fella to be my gopher as I used to hate it when I was a kid. Besides, in the few occasions I have made such a request he moans like I’ve asked him to do a shift up a chimney. However, I had my sloth on and thought I would give it a go.
Me – could you fill up my glass, son? (I point helpfully to the cola bottle visible through the kitchen door.
TWF – (grunts, stands up) S’pose.
Me – after he has poured a paltry two fingers worth – thanks.
TWF – Why didn’t you get it for yourself?
Me – I wanted to see if you would do something for me.
TWF – I do something for you every day, Dad. (BIG grin) I give you a reason to live.