The Prince and the Pea

Talking, as I was the other day, about ‘SAS: Are You Tough Enough?’, the answer in my son’s case is a definitive ‘No.’ It was frosty this morning, and on the way to school we had to stop for five minutes because ‘the steam [aka, his breath] is getting into my eyes and irritating them.’ Poor boy, his short life has been marred by physical discomforts. The bathwater ‘burns’ him, scarves chafe his neck like sandpaper, and when I cut his toenails you’d think that I was circumcising him. His teacher once told me with a smirk that she’d had to take him inside at playtime because he was affected by smoke from a bonfire HALF A MILE AWAY .
It’s my fault, of course. I’m definitely a carrier of the wimp gene, and now my children have both inherited it. ‘Mummy, Mummy, watch this!’ other kids in the park shout as they perform wheelies on their bikes/do perfect handstands/climb a tree using only their teeth. ‘Mummy, Mummy, watch this!’ my kids shout, as they lift an acorn above their head/jump over a leaf. Put it this way, I don’t think Bear Grylls has anything to worry about.

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4 Comments

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4 responses to “The Prince and the Pea

  1. Love it. Bear Ghrylls is completely bonkers anyway – he eats animal poo goddammit. Stick to the leaf jumping and acron waving – much more endearing. Many congrats on being Blogger Of The Week also.

    • notwavingbutironing

      Thanks! I guess the world needs leaf jumpers as well as macho men, or they’d have all died out years ago. Wimpiness must serve some genetic purpose, I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.

  2. I bet your blood pressure is bang on… and you’ve never screamed at your death defying children that they are going to give you a stroke and when you’re dead oooooh they’ll be so SORRY!

    They barely look contrite so I have no idea were I got the notion they’d be sorry.

    • notwavingbutironing

      Yes, that’s true. I don’t have to worry about them jumping out of windows or riding their bikes off cliffs. The only time my blood pressure rises is sports day, when they trail in last because ‘the grass is a bit too spiky for running on.’

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