Saturday, February 18, 2012

My Mothers Right Of Reply

This is self indulgent of me, but my Mum replies to a couple of previous posts, and talks about me as a child, saying:

Your dad was using a small puffer to kill white ants and he put it down on the ground for a few minutes and then he heard you coughing – puffer still in hand. Knowing that the trip to hospital would result in your stomach being pumped out I declined the trip and gave the job to your Dad – thought that it would probably take you weeks to forgive him and I did not want to be the “bad” parent.

Your introduction to alcohol was beer – not wine and you were around 2 years of age.

We were having a BBQ under the big gum trees  at the front of the house with a bunch of
our friends when one of them thought that you appeared to be a little drunk so we all started to watch what you were doing. Everyone was sitting on park type bench seating and they were putting their drinks on the ground – 'little miss cunning' was crawling along under the seats testing everyones glass of beer!

At around the same age you developed Houdini style escape skills and on occasion our nearby neighbour turned up with one little girl whose face and top was covered in red tomato juice.

Seems 'said' 'little girl' had raided their packing shed where their prize tomatoes were packed into open top boxes ready to go to the market in Perth and so, same 'little girl' decided to taste test the produce to make sure that it was the very top quality the outside of the box said it was! Mind you the neighbours face was about the same colour of said little girls top!

In those early formative years you also developed a fascination with bugs, beetles and any flying insect.

Nothing fased you but your parents had some very blood pressure raising events that are burned forever in the memory banks.

Like the time - when you were in the terrible 3’s you decided to sit on top on a double decker bee hive and drum your heals on the side of the hive. You were surrounded by the grumpiest bunch of bees you can imagine but they were not stinging you. Your Dad donned all the bee keeping gear and headed out to rescue you from the top of the hive – the bee look out brigade recognised the rescue squad was about to arrive so went out in force to welcome him – they met up with him about midway between the house and the hive –however he was well protected and was able to rescue one little girl that did not get stung once!

And in Singapore...

When you decided to catch the big black flying beetle in your hand and you got stung by the
Poor little blighter so your hand swelled up so much you looked like you had a big fat baseball mitt on with 5 little saugages hanging off the sides

And the school project....

When we lived beachside in Perth and you spent
hours trying to sticky tape slugs to your project page only to have them slide out from under the tape each time you squeezed it to secure it in place. Whilst inside the kitchen your mother was watching thru the window and damned near wet herself laughing – mind you not loudly – and that was hard not to do!

(Thanks Mum, this post is not finished, will publish some photos if I can find some) 

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