Last night I over indulged in the festive spirit a little too much, as two girlfriends popped over for supper and a few glasses of fizz. Today I woke with a headache that had paid for full room and board for the day in advance and a lethargic attitude that does not go well with small people.
To add insult to injury, I also didn’t only have my own small people, but two additional five-year olds, over for a play.
I opted for ease on everything. As I bundled five children in the car, plus five school bags, plus five packed lunch boxes, plus 341 mini Christmas cards, and then five coats, hats and scarfs, I told the young ones that I would be stopping at the garage to collect Frozen Pizza for tea.
I figured I’d throw some fruit on the side and I could hope they would at least mention to their parents that some of their five a day was covered, outside of the tomato on the dough.
I drove into the petrol station as five loud voices all declared what different toppings they would like on their pizza, and I chose to ignore them all and go for the first ones I found. I left the car with my usual strict instructions to not touch the wheel or hand brake and dashed into the store to collect the nights grub.
The local garage offers a lovely view from inside, into my car, so I could happily see the children treating the inside of my car like a bouncy castle as I queued to pay….
I returned to the car, jumped in, barked instructions at my own kids to put on their seatbelts and then said the same in a sing-song voice to the ones who didn’t come from my womb.
Then I heard it….
Inaudibly at first but then louder, with giggles.
“Vagina, Vagina, Vagina.”
I turned around in my seat to see three five-year olds in a mess of giggles, and my two older twins looking at me with matching faces of pure innocence.
“We all have vaginas,” snorted one child, I think it was my own.
Two kids, not mine, happily singing and snorting about the female form.
It is not that I have anything against the word vagina, but I’m not sure all mothers would thank me when their little girl shouts it out in class thanks to my older pair being so keen to impart new terminology on their little sisters friends.
“Enough,” I called out in my half sing-song, half yelling tone.
“Seriously girls, enough.”
My older two collasped in a fit of giggles,
“I said no more Vagina talk…” I dropped the sing-song and proceeded straight to yelling. The old dear filling her car at the petrol pump next to me jumped a little and stared into my vehicle.
Finally they simmered down, although on the drive home I could hear the occasional snort and an echo of the word.
God, I hoped they would forget the word during the play date, and thanked god the twins had kept some of their latest newfound treats in the English language to themselves.
The play continued at a 1000 decibels when we got home, and it was a relief when I finally served up Pizza (with fruit on the side) and their chatter was silenced by the sound of happy eating.
I had forgotten about the vagina chat, and all seemed well with the world.
I asked the question,
“Have you had fun girls?”
To which they all beamed and my daughter cried,
“We have had so much, we have played teachers, played Princesses and maybe later we can play vaginas…”
Am hoping the other parents don’t ask what they got up…..