Jordan von Big Boobs
I remember reading a quote somewhere that children laugh up to 400 times a day, yet by the time we’re adults, that figure drops to about 17. I can totally understand this. My children are currently wetting themselves playing Quidditch on the Playstation because Seamus Finnigan calls the Weasley brothers the ‘Weasley w*nkers’. How the bloody hell this slipped through the net I have no idea (the game is marketed at children from 3+) but it’s tickled my two no end. Yes, I’ve done the motherly thing and explained that this really isn’t a nice word and is certainly not to be used in polite conversation, but it still evokes peals of laughter every time they hear it.
In no particular order today, they’ve also laughed at: the dog growling in her sleep;
at least ten bodily emissions; even more silly jokes and a few rounds of name calling (#2 favours ‘you bottom’ as an insult, while #2 prefers ‘you ignorant boob’). Both howled with laughter at spotting a jewellery range in the Argos catalogue by the lovely Katie Price ‘ha look, it’s Jordan von Big Boobs’. Come to think of it, the mere mention of the word ‘breast’ sends them both into hysterics.
And what have I laughed at? Well, them basically. And that seems to be the general pattern. I laughed when they were cleaning their teeth and #1 accidentally spat on #2 (cue indignant yelling and shouting by #2, which made #1 snort with laughter and spray even more toothpaste on the now puce with fury #2). I also laughed when #2 was rushing around in the garden with B, who then got very excited, ran five times faster, and knocked #2 clean off his feet. I’ve just broken up a pillow fight so that, when I shouted, I caught #1 by surprise – he turned round to look at me only to be caught by the flying pillow of #2, knocking him clean off his feet too. That set me off as well, and all three of us wet ourselves laughing.
Look, I’m aware that I’m probably a bad mother. There’s a certain amount of inappropriate language and silliness in our house, but blimey, they work bloody hard at school and have a very long day, not finishing until 6pm, and as my Mum always said ‘I don’t mind what you do at home so much, as long as you behave when you’re out’. Not a bad sentiment I think. It makes me happy that they’re happy and they have a bit of fun at home. This week, I received an email from my friend, the ever-glamorous C, who is a busy Mum, runs an equally busy office and who has had a particularly hectic time recently. The best bit for me, though, was that after telling me all her news, she said ‘I’ve just read back through the email and God it sounds like I’m depressed. I’m not – in fact I’m very happy 
’. And that, as I emailed her back and told her, is the best news of all.
