Tag Archives: things children say

What’s a coopid?

Munki: What does a coopid mean?

Lashes: You’re saying it wrong.

Munki: No I’m not.

Lashes: Yes, it’s a cupid. A little angel that fires arrows and makes people fall in love.

Munki: No. Not that. A coopid. It says it on that door.
Lashes: Oh! Occupied.

Me: Rolling round the floor laughing for the second time yesterday.
The first time was sitting outside our new favourite eat and drinkerie. Munki and I were at the table playing at being Barbie and Rainbow Horse and speaking in ridiculous American accents. I was Rainbow horse.

Munki: Can I ride you?
Me: You sure can.
Munki: Oh great. If you ride you you won’t flip me off will you?

Me: Laughed till I cried and couldn’t even tell her why. Other diners looked at me like I’d gone slightly potty.

What’s in a name

Are  we defined by our given names? Do they affect our personality? What really is in a name?

Well, apparently quite a lot.  When I sat down to do this post I typed into Google ‘what’s in a name’ and came up with The Kabalarian Philosophy website.  You type in your name and it will tell you exactly what’s in your name.

I tried it out on a few family members and it’s amazingly accurate.

Which causes a certain family member a bit of a problem as they now have to change their name.

Dear reader, let me elucidate:

Monday is the day I pick Munki up from school.  She was feeling particularly bellicose this week and as I was struggling to fix her car seat safely into position she was complaining about the reading book she’s just been given. “I’ll read it, Nanny. ” She read me the whole book in about thirty seconds. “It’s a stupid baby book, it’s rubbish!” The shoved it back into her school back in disgust then enquired as to whether we’d be going to the park.

Since it was a nice day and Douggie the doggie was in the back of the car the answer was in the affirmative.

We strolled through the park having a nice chat about our respective dogs. “Teddy chews things all the time”, she said. “Oh really? Douggie doesn’t really do that.”

Quick as a flash came her vehement  ( yes, yes, I did indeed swallow a dictionary this morning) reply: “Yes he DOES! He chewed my favourite teddy, Lavender. Now she doesn’t smell like lavender any more, she smells like dog slobber so I’ll have to change her name to Dogslobber. Stupid Douggie!”

Oh dear. I hope it doesn’t affect her personality. I ran it through the Kabalarian website just to be sure. Funnily enough ‘dogslobber’ didn’t come up as a name, although I was invited to add it to their database.

Moving onwards and upwards – well some of us are.

What an absolutely brilliant day Monday was. It was one of those days that stays in your memory forever. A rare, happy go lucky, relax and enjoy day.

Just like the when the stars come into line, all the events worked out and I found myself in the happy position of playing host to all three grandchildren. Happy day indeed, especially as they were all in a good mood and in high spirits. As the sun was shining and the day was neither too hot nor too cold, neither too windy nor too still, we decided to take the dog for a walk up a nearish by big hill. The clingons thought that was a real adventure so we packed supplies to keep them going on the arduous journey. Cartons of juice and sweeties, what more does an adventurer need to keep their strength and spirits up?

Douggie the doggie came along as well and decided that he wanted to be a real golden golden retriever instead of his usual white so he found a ditch full of orange muddy water to wallow in. Dear Lord, what a mess.

Other than that we had a delightful walk and even managed to find a geocache. Dangerous was the team leader for that one. Taking the directions quite literally and taking us in a line as straight as an arrow to the cache, she plunged straight off the path and onto the heathery moor sinking right up to her knees in the springy moss. Poor old Batty was terrified but bravely carried on when she’d have been perfectly entitled to have sat that one out. She really is an inspiration. It was worth the trauma she endured though because she was thrilled when she actually found the cache. Munki couldn’t wait to get her head into it to see what the treasure was. Such a lot of excitement for a plastic container with a pen that didn’t work, a small note book and a few miniature plastic toys. We celebrated by cracking open a box of butterscotch sweets, eating them with relish as we enjoyed the amazing view and congratulating ourselves on being brilliant treasure hunters.







Later in the afternoon I had to take Pebbles, yes, the very one that this blog is named after, to the vet for a pedicure. I dropped two of the clingons off at home and took Munki with me. Pebbles, always a timorous wee beastie, has grown even more timid as she’s got older. Estimates vary as to her exact age but we know for a fact that the least she is is twenty and possibly as old as twenty two. She deserves to be handled with a bit of care. The vet picked up the clippers and took a chunk out of the first toenail. None too gentle as she did it she also took a chunk of the poor little cat’s toe as well. There was blood everywhere. I was not best pleased. Eventually we got the rest of the claws clipped and Pebbles slunk gratefully back into the safety of her box, the very same box I’d fought to get her into an hour before. Poor thing was traumatised, she wouldn’t come near me for the rest of the day but at least she can all comfortably now – or will when that wound heals.

On the way home from the vet’s I dropped Munki off at Lashes’ work. There is a new sign offer the door. RECEPTION. “Nanny, why does it say reception?” “Well, that’s how people know where to go when they come to visit. “Mummy works in reception, doesn’t she? That means when I go back to school I’ll be in year one but Mummy will still be in reception!”

Hahaaaaaaaa. She’ll go far, that child!

What am I full of?

Munki was on top form today. Cute, funny and highly entertaining she’s a natural comedienne.

The funniest part of all was when she wasn’t even trying to be funny.

“Guess what I’m full of, Nanny. It begins with B.”

That started a guessing game: “Baubles, bears, buns, bananas, bees, bunions, bikes?”

“No, no, no. It’s B.S. I’m full of B.S.”

Well, every adult in the room fell about laughing but obviously Munki, being four years old didn’t get the joke so we played the game and carried on guessing.

“Balloons, books, beds, bandits, beer, bonkers?”

Munki screamed out laughing. “No, Nanny, no. It’s bu – sketti!”

Hahaaaaaaaa. What?

“You know. Bu…sketti!”

Of course, why didn’t we get it? It’s obvious!  Obvious to a four your old who can’t say the word ‘spaghetti.

Still on the subject of Munki. She and Lashes are big fans of McFly. Last week the decided to sing their favourite McFly song together. It’s just so darned  cuuuuuuuuuute.

Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings

A couple of times over the last few days I’ve been reduced to tears of laughter by comments that have come out of the mouths of small children.

The first one was on Saturday during a portrait shoot. There was nanny, Mum, Aunty and the little girl. What a character she was. Two years old and character in spades. Totally unaware she was being amusing, she absolutely charmed me and Boofuls.  I could hardly bear to let her go home. As small kids often do, she wanted to check out the facilities. Often. She must have gone to the loo about ten times.

At one point she approached Boofuls and asked him. “Will you take me for a poo?” Awkward. Poor bloke.

“No, darling, you need to go and ask your Mum”, he replied. The little girl walked over to her Mum and asked her loudly;

“Mummy. Can he take me for a poo?”

Oh how my sides ached, I could hardly breathe for laughing.


I got in trouble from Munki today for singing the wrong words to a song from one of her favourite programmes.

Apparently the correct lyrics are; Roll your sleeves up, give your hands a wash with slippy slippy soap, splish splash splosh.

My version was; Roll your sleeves up, give your hands a wash, we’re going to get ready to make some nosh.

“NO! NANNY! NO! THAT’S NOT RIGHT!!” She was disgusted at the corruption of her favourite song. She was so disgusted she gave her banana to the dog in a hissy fit.

On the way home  in the car she was telling me that she doesn’t like dinosaurs. I agreed that dinosaurs might be a bit scary. I was a bit surprised when she informed me with great solemnity that dinosaurs are the same thing as vampires. Now that’d be really scary. I tried my best not to laugh out loud but there was a lot of coughing and spluttering going on. It’s hard to drive with tears streaming down your face.

These kids will be the death of me.



Aaaawww, kids, eh? You have to love ’em

Boofuls sent me this earlier and it  was a welcome relief after a hard morning’s photo editing.

Enjoy, I did.

What, you ask, is ‘Butt dust’?  


JACK (age 3) was watching his Mum breast-feeding his new baby sister. 

After a while he asked: ‘Mum why have you got two?  Is one for hot and 

one for cold milk?’ 


MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied 

she was so old she didn’t remember any more. Melanie said, ‘If you don’t 

remember, you look in the back of your panties. Mine say five to six.’ 


STEVEN (age 3) hugged and kissed his Mum good night. ‘I love you so 

much that when you die I’m going to bury you outside my bedroom window. 


BRITTANY (age 4) had an ear ache and wanted a pain killer. She tried in vain to 

take the lid off the bottle. Seeing her frustration, her Mum explained it as a 

child-proof cap and she’d have to open it for her.  Eyes wide with wonder, the 

little girl asked, ‘How does it know it’s me?’ 


SUSAN (age 4) was drinking juice when she got the hiccups. ‘Please don’t give 

me this juice again,’ she said, ‘It makes my teeth cough.’ 


 DJ (age 4) stepped onto the bathroom scale and asked, ‘How much do I cost?’ 


 MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and kissing in 

a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his dad: 

‘Why is he whispering in her mouth?’ 


 CLINTON (age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried. When his Mum asked 

what was troubling him, he replied, ‘I don’t know what’ll happen with this 

bed when I get married. How will my wife fit in it?’ 


 JAMES (age 4) was listening to a Bible story.  His dad read : ‘The man named 

Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city, but his wife looked back 

and was turned to salt.’ Concerned, James asked: ‘What happened to the flea?’ 


TAMMY (age 4) was with her mother when they met an elderly, rather wrinkled woman 

her Mom knew. Tammy looked at her for a while and then asked, ‘Why doesn’t your 

skin fit your face?’ 


The Sermon I think this Mum will never forget. ‘Dear Lord,’ the minister began, 

with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his upturned face. 

‘Without you, we are but dust…’ 

He would have continued, but at that moment my very obedient daughter who 

was listening, leaned over to me and asked, quite audibly, in her shrill little four 

year old girl voice, ‘Mum, what is butt dust?