Tales of MiniMosher mirth

 Wow, been a while, hasn't it? I mean it's now a new year and I haven't updated this blog since August. It's been a busy latter half of the year and, unfortunately, this blog has been one of things that have fallen by the way side. But I shall be rectifying that now and getting back into it.

 I thought about how I would restart this as I still had a lot things I was gonna talk about. I planned to say lots of serious and insightful things about being a step-parent, because I'm deep like that. And I can say that without irony or self-depreciation because this is my blog and I can say what I like and get away with it. So there.

 But you know what? Me and the family don't spend 24 hours a day making fathomless observations on the ramifications our lives have on each other. Oh no, it's not constant epiphanies all year round. Sometimes we just, you know, arse about. Sometimes we are just silly. Sometimes being NotDad is just a laugh. So this post is to share a few of the more humorous stories I have of my time with My Lady and the MiniMosher.

 Enjoy.

Roll your R's
 Not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I'm a Scot living in England. I've lived there for over 10 years now. It's a positive experience on the whole ...you do get the occasional get a bit of ribbing about your accent. Especially if you live with My Lady and the MiniMosher. In fact, with them it can be more of a constant onslaught. Of course, with them both being Scouse there is absolutely nothing funny sounding about their accents so they have to take amusement in mine.
 On one particular day this took the form of them both competing against each other to decide who could do the best Scottish accent.
 After several attempts My Lady finally declared "I can't roll my R's well enough to do a proper Scottish accent."
 This prompted the MiniMosher to say "I can roll my R's, look!" and with that he jumped to his feet, turned his back on us and rotated his bum zumba style at us.

The Bumming Incident
 I suppose it's not all a one way street when it comes to teasing, I can really wind up the MiniMosher pretty well when we are messing about too. Usually to the point where he ends up saying that he's gonna get me when we get home. Often he claims he's gonna bash me, suplex me or put me in a submission hold. One time when all three of us were all out on on car journey he hit me with an entirely new threat.
 I was good naturely winding the little guy up when he came out with the following:
 "When we get home I'm gonna bum you"
 Now, I think it's safe to say that the moment's silence which promptly followed his statement was suitably uncomfortable. I mean, how do you react when an eight year old threatens to bum you.
 Upon further questioning on why he had just said he qualified his statement with "You know, like the Big Show"
 Now, for those not in the know, the MiniMosher is fond of professional wrestling and the Big Show is a large 7 foot tall, 500 pound wrestler. This did not quite explain gwhy he thinks the Big Show "bums" people though. It certainly wasn't something I had observed happening in all my years watching
So it begs the obvious question, which we had to ask, "When does the Big Show bum people"
 The MiniMosher's explanation was as follows: "Well, he throws them into the corner of the wrestling ring. Then he turns around and crushes them in the corner with his bum ...he bums them!"

The World's Greatest Profession

In terms of completely inappropriate outbursts from the wee man this one still stands tall as king.
I can't remember exactly what we were watching but the MiniMosher had taken a particular dislike to a certain character or person. His final outburst of frustration with this person/character/entity came when muttered the phrase "What a Puff" at the TV.
Now this is one of those trying parental moments. Because it sounded like he had used a certain derogatory phrase that is aimed at homosexuals. This is something that couldn't and wouldn't stand for because, well, it's just not right.
So we sternly asked if he knew why he shouldn't have said it.
His reply came as "Because it's rude?"
So we calmly explained how it wasn't just rude but just plain nasty and discriminatory. We explained what it meant and how it just wasn't right to call someone that.
Job done. Good parents.
....except it wasn't over just like that because he then smugly replied with "It doesn't mean that".
I won't lie, we were somewhat baffled by this and had to ask what it mean.
"I can't tell you that ...it's rude"
And just like that, he had. If we wanted to know what was going on we had give him permission to say something naughty. Classic trap. Of course we bit and told him he could say it to explain it to us.
"Puff ...P.U.F.F ...it stands for Professional Underwater Fanny Feeler"
Now this is another one of those trying parental moments. Now we had to remain stoic and make sure he knows it's not funny to be so puerile. That's the adult thing to do.
...what we actually did was fall over ourselves laughing for five or ten minutes. What can I say? Maturity can't win all the time.
Plus I couldn't help wondering how much harder I would tried at swimming lessons at school if that had been real viable career option.