We were snuggled on the sofa watching Channel 4's ‘Willie’s Perfect Chocolate Christmas’ and drooling as he made these.
The 4 year old was engrossed, she loves cooking programmes, moreso if they involve chocolate.
She gets up and points at the man on the TV “Is his name Willie?”
“Yes it is” I confirm, knowing exactly where this is going.
4 year old – “Really? WILLIE?”
Me – “Yes, now ssssshhhhhhh”
4 year old – “BUT, boys have a willy!” she shouts in astonishment as she falls back onto the sofa in fits of giggles.
… closely followed by Incident 2
4 Year old – “Mummy, Mummy come and look at what he can do with his willy”
At the time I was washing up. As I dried my hands and rushed to my 2 year old, my thoughts were as follows;
- Oh my god – he’s chopped it off with the scissors (after all we haven’t visited A&E in over a month).
- He’s allowed the 4 year old to felt tip on it and add festive glitter (modern art?).
- He’s trapped it in something (we haven't had a really embarrassing A&E trip yet).
Nothing would surprise me anymore in this house. These options may seem farfetched, but not as farfetched as the 3 year old (friend of a friend of a friend's friend) I am aware of who was able to proudly put a whole mini diecast dinosaur in his foreskin before his mother drummed the perils of sharp objects and nether regions into him.
Fortunately it was none of the above.
I walked into the living room to find him lying on the sofa watching Lazytown.
4 year old – “Show Mummy what has happened …”
My 2 year old casually revealed himself, not taking his eyes off the TV.
4 year old – “Look Mummy it’s pointing upwards”
Me – “Oh yes, so it is. It’s Scooby Doo next, does anyone want a biscuit?”