Me and Mini Minx were out shopping today. I’d generally rather stick pins in my eyes than go shopping, but it’s usually pretty tolerable with a minx or 2 or 3 along for amusement value. Today scored pretty highly…
“Mummy, look at that man with the HUUUGE fat tummy!” Mini shouted, pointing helpfully so that there was no mistaking who her poor victim was. So that killed 15 minutes while I explained (yet again) to her why it wasn’t nice to talk about what other people look like.
I thought we might be safe in Tesco. Walking around, Mini loudly and unself-consciously sang away to herself:
“Durrrty dees… dun-dun-deed! Durrrrrrty dees… She’s a durrrrrty wooooman!”
The other shoppers glared at me and nervously sidled away. I guess Mini’s sweet tones totally disguised the ACDC song she was singing (Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap).
At the fish counter I bought some whole trout on special offer, and asked the staff member to gut them for me, to save me time later.
“Mummy, mummy, mummy! Please keep the eyes! I want the eyes! I love them, they’re my favourite!” Mini squealed, in a voice that would pierce a ton of butter. The server glanced nervously at me and Mini.
“My 3 daughters like to eat the eyes”, I shrugged; “They must get it from their Daddy. Rather them than me…”.
Mini slurped loudly like a cartoon character and sighed: “Eyeballs…” then started anxiously nagging me again to let her eat all 6 eyeballs. I was aware of a ton of eyeballs boring into the back of my neck, from the queue of other fish-wishing customers.
“What is it you like so much about eating fish eyeballs?” I asked her.
“Ooooo, they’re so smooze (smooth) and juicy and yummy and delicious in my tummy” she explained.
“Oh”, I wittily retorted. The staring down my neck feeling suddenly faded, just like the fish counter queue. Must remember to chat tasty fish titbits with the kids next time we’re stuck in a long queue…