As we all know small children have an unfortunate habit of repeating snippets of conversation they’ve overhead at inconvenient times. They parrot back words and phrases that they’ve overheard, frequently without you even knowing that they’ve overheard and sometimes that you didn’t particularly want them to hear.
We instituted a no swearing in front of the child rule after Ol’s thirty-second word was ‘oh c**p’, used in context I hasten to add, and needless to say it doesn’t figure on the list of ‘My First Fifty Words’ that every paranoid first-time mother fills in. Other than that, though, we’ve got off fairly lightly so far. Or at least I thought we had.
Every now and again Ellie will recount something with an unholy amount of glee. I’ve learnt to be wary of a conversation at the end of the day which starts with a meaningful ‘so…’.
‘So…you know you keep a box of tampax at toddler height in the downstairs loo?’
‘So…your son overfilled his nappy today and had an impromptu bath just before lunch.’
‘So…he’s really mastered the whole spoon as a catapult thing now.’
I have a rule that if I can get in the door, put my bag down, hang my coat up and get the kettle on without hearing ‘so…..’, I’m safe.
The other night I came in as usual. Bag down, check. Toddler anchored to the ankle, check. Coat away, check. Toddler into the arms, smothered with kisses, and released. Check. Kettle on, check. Relax.
Ellie shoots me a mischevious glance.
“Ol, poppet, what did you want for dinner?” she cooed sweetly.
“A PIZZA!” Ol announced proudly. I spin my head round so fast my neck practically breaks.
“Shall Ellie make you pizza?” she asked.
“No, telephone a pizza,” he said seriously, toddling off into the hall. I covered my face with my hands.
“We don’t have takeaway pizza that often,” I begin. Ellie shoots me a look which immediately conveys that she knows I’m lying and it doesn’t really matter whether we have pizza every night she doesn’t leave something for us.
Ol reappears with the cordless phone and presses some buttons. Thankfully the keypad on this actually locks, something a childless person wouldn’t have known or thought about when buying said phone but pretty useful when you discover that it does.
“Yes, hello. A pizza?” Ol cocked his head to one side. “Okay. A pepperoni and a veggie supreme……Half hour great okaybye. Bedtime Ollypop”.
Ellie falls about laughing. I feel a giggle rising up inside me too. It’s cute, admittedly but three embarrassing things.
One that our son is practically able to order our pizza for us.
Two we obviously have pizza so often they know our voices and address without even asking.
Three we order it so frequently just before putting him to bed that he tags ‘bedtime Ollypop’ onto the order.
Oh the shame….Maybe we’ll have Chinese tomorrow.