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Tag:
times tables
Life

Look Out Your Own Window

19/06/2014 by Alison Asher 2 Comments

Things our kids argued about in the car today, before my first coffee:

  • Whether or not google is actually a number.  (It kind of is, but it is spelt googol)
  • Who knows the most.  (Me: About what? Them: Everything.   Okaaaay then.)
  • Who is better at violin.  (Hard to say, they are both shit and sound like tortured cats)
  • Who is better at Minecraft.   (Depends how you define better of course.  So they devised a competition, of which I will judge, where they will each craft a thing- say a castle- in a set time-frame.  I already know how this will end.)
  • Whether or not Liam brushed his teeth properly.
  • What exactly Coco meant when she said they do “skill building” first up on Monday mornings.  (By now I was shouting: You know what skills are, you know what building means, so “skill building” is both of those things put together.)
  • Whether or not Loom Bands are better than Pokemon Cards.  (They are both shit and I’m close to banning both.)
  • Whether or not One Direction used to be Coco’s favourite band.  (They were, briefly, in 2012.)
  • Why Coco should refer to other kids called Liam by their first and last name.  (Apparently our Liam gets confused.  For example:  Coco: Mum can I go to Liam’s party?  Liam: What party?  I’m not having a party.  My birthday is in September.   I shit you not, this was an actual conversation.)
  • Who the cat likes more.  (No-one.  She’s a cat.)
  • Whether or not Coco meant to hit Liam with an ugg boot when she hit it with her tennis racquet.  (I don’t think so.  It’s unlikely at this skill level that she would have dared even think of connecting.  However I think she was overjoyed with the result.  Which, of course became the problem.)
  • Who is better at the six times tables.  (Who cares, I still rule, so suck on that, under 10s.)

Somewhere around about here I told them both to shut-up.  I may have mentioned that they were both hopeless at everything, and that I was better, and would always be better, and they should both stop talking to each other immediately and look out their own windows, or else there would be no ‘devices’ for the whole week, including the weekend, if I heard just one more peep.

We drove along in blissful silence for at least thirty-seven seconds, as I hummed along to some young-person’s song on the youth network.  Some young person with no kids or mortgage, who was probably at this moment stressing over mid-year exams, or whether the beer-can wall would get completed before the next house inspection, or planning a snow-boarding trip to Perisher.  Mmmmm, yes, Perisher, with schnapps and sore bums from falling onto the the icy-snow and sore knees from, well, nocturnal activities…

A tiny voice from the back, broke my reverie.  “Mummy, Liam just looked out my window.”

 

Do your kids argue about bullshit?  Do they have their “own” window?  (And why did I say that?  Because now, there are “own windows, of course)

…From The Ashers xxx

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