Around the dinner table tonight (family meal night, even though I only have one at home now) I heard a good one.
Apparently it was up at Conference. We used to go to the Christian Outreach Centre International Conferences. Had a great time there, saw lots of old friends, and a holiday touring around south-eastern Queensland, and into NSW as well.
We would all go to the combined meetings in the mornings and then on to something different each arvo. Junior was still nursing, so he would come with us, while the rest of the kids knew where to find us if they scraped their knees. Near the baby room and the toilets! The kids would go off and play with their friends.
Miss Kitty Kat was given a small tub of yoghurt after lunch, and she had purloined what she thought were sachets of sugar.
Any guesses as to what they really contained? And where it all ended up? Yes, salt in the yoghurt. Although why she ever thought she needed extra sugar is beyond me...
We talked about How Sam tried to drown first born in the pool at the caravan park. (I remember how she loved him so desperately at 16 and would have died for him. So dramatic.)
Who else did what? How about Junior dobbing Miss First-born in for coming up to the school to pick him up in her new car. Even though she didn't have her 'L's back then. (Shh - don't tell mum or dad)
Miss Kitty Kat dobbing in Miss First-born for smoking in the wood shed. Complete with Redbacks and two stroke lawn mower.
Ditto dobbing in ditto about smoking dope in there...
How about Miss First-born getting Master Geek-boy thrown off the school bus for life for letting off (ahem) a fart bomb? She begged the bus driver to let him back on. Even apologised. Didn't work.
Then, later down the track, I was told that the 'Kate' whom I met and was told was the 'good Kate' was really the 'bad Kate', with whom somebody was caught shop-lifting and actually ran away with...
There were always thefts of food. When we moved back to NZ I searched the house from top to bottom looking for the noodles I had hidden for later in the week, way back in the dark ages...
Now I wonder who will own up to that? Probably the Noodle Queen. I shall have to ask one day.
And we still have Mr Not Mee, the chinese bloke (Please don't be mad at me for that one...) who stil does all the bad stuff in the house, even though there is only one child left... (At home, silly. I'm not 'fessing up' to anything here.)
I think the best way to encourage the confessions is just to laugh when they tell you stuff. That way they keep 'em coming. Mind you, there have been a few times I would rather cry.
Well, at least, try to not get shocked and go into 'Lecutre Mode'. That really puts them off. 'Mum, I know,' they cry. I am up to the stage where I just say, well, please, lecture me. C'mon, make my day...
If I can remember any more, I might share them with you. Hmm, just don't ask me about my confessions to my own mother, will you!!!
Other related posts:
Where can a mother go to resign?
And you thought my life was weird...
What they don't tell you in the ads...
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