At this stage, I am not sure which is more entertaining, the post school car chats or the newly energised dinner chats.
DS1 was speaking about a boy named K.
‘That sounds like an Irish name’ I suggested.
‘He’s not Irish, Mummy’ came the very swift response.
‘How do you know?’ I asked abruptly, almost offended that my sleuthing ability would be questioned.
With his face contorted into an expression that screamed he meant business, DS1 spat ‘He’s mean and he’s dumb’!
I began to giggle uncontrollably. I knew I shouldn’t. Even DD seemed to know that was the incorrect reaction from a Mummy and stared at me with a questioning look! But, I couldn’t help it.
‘Why do you say that?’ I asked, trying to regain some form of parental gravitas.
‘Well, when we were in class, he kept kicking H under the table, and he only got 2 out of 12 on his spelling’ fired back DS1.