Smug parents r not us...

Oh, how I laughed when I read this post by More Than Just a Mother a couple of weeks back.

But then, in the taxi on the way back from the airport on Thursday, Boy #2 was asleep and Boy #1 and were messing around. I was tickling him...

Him: "You're a mongrel."

Me: "A mongrel? Really?" (I have heard this one many times before; it's courtesy of one of the characters in Boy #1's Crocodile Hunter film). "Oh dear."

Him (aware that I was unimpressed): "No, you're not a mongrel. You're a muthamucker."

Me (Don't panic. Don't panic. Keep smiling. Don't over-react. If he knows this is bad it's going to reappear. This is what you get for spending the summer in England. Who did he hear this one from? His older cousin? On the tube? On the street? Where? Where?) "OK. Right. Who did you hear saying that?"

Him: "Boy #2."

I might have known...

Do you ever get the feeling your kids are smarter than you?

Am bracing myself for a crazy few days. Now that the Christmas break is well and truly over, it's time for us to face up to the fact that in 5 days time we will be leaving the UK for the forseeable future. Bearing in mind the fact that moving is not something I particularly enjoy, it could be a bumpy ride.

With the first of two sets of movers (one domestic, to store the bulk of our furniture, and one international, to ship a few odds and sods to Russia) coming on Monday, Husband and I are leaving the children with grandparents today to go back and try and impose some kind of order on our possessions. Thankfully we don't actually have to pack anything as that will invalidate our insurance (hurrah for insurance!) but we do have to separate things out so that vital supplies we will need in Moscow don't disappear into storage for the next couple of years. You know, life-saving appliances like a coffee maker, for example...

So we're leaving the Boys behind for a few days. Boy #2 is unconcerned by this; at just under 4 years old he probably doesn't appreciate the level of forthcoming upheaval. Boy #1, as expected, is handling it differently, and is 'unhappy' at being left behind. Suffering from more than just a few last-minute jitters myself, I'm probably overly sympathetic, but that doesn't change what has to be, so behind he must stay...

Normal service is continuing however, as illustrated by the following conversation that took place in the the car a couple of days ago. Boy #1 and Boy #2 were arguing about something or other (I think it was of vital importance and involved battles between Megatron and Optimus Prime). Suddenly...

Boy #2: "You're wrong! You bloody bugger..."

Me: "I beg your pardon?"

Boy #2: "I said, 'bloody bugger'."

Me: "Well, please don't. We don't say that."

Boy #1: "What? Bloody Bugger?"

Me: "Yes. Please don't say it. You don't hear Papa and I say that, so please don't say it yourself."

Boy #1: "Alright. We won't say 'bloody bugger' anymore."

Boy #2: "Yes. No more 'bloody bugger'. Don't say it, Boy #1. No more 'bloody bugger'."

There is silence for a few minutes whilst I try to contain my giggles and maintain the facade of being a responsible parent, until Husband gets into the car.

Boy #1 and #2 in unison: "No more 'bloody bugger', Papa!"