Sometimes the only way to combat the virulent ennui of life is to aim below the belt so to speak to gain those much needed shits and giggles and you can't get much lower (or rather funnier) then picking on ones own spawn. There is something frightfully amusing about playing upon the little darlings innate gullibility. I know yet not once have I ever claimed to be nice.
A short while ago Thing Two was bemoaning yet another random ailment this time being a terribly incapacitating itchy toe.
'Oh dear' I sympathised.'Oh no....' I exclaimed gravely. She turned her saucer wide eyes upwards to me, her head cocked curiously to one side. I waited as the silence swelled with her curiosity yet her genetic stubborn streak prevented her from admitting I'd hooked her attention.
I continued to casually tidy up the daily debris of the spawn tornado 'you must have toetus then' I started to reel her in as her attention locked fully upon me. She couldn't help herself, the air was near vibrating with her hunger for details as she finally relented and asked what it was. I explained how it starts with an itchy toe and then your tongue turns purple and sprouts little black prickles. I could see her tongue fret around her mouth as i spoke.'...then what happens?' Her voice caught in the back of her throat nervously.'oh it goes eventually, you'll be fine'
I could see her gullible innocence war with her inherited cynicism. She needed to believe me. She needed to not believe me.'Have you ever had it?' She ventured 'no' I said which only served to feed her cynicism as she responded with 'then how do you know about it then?' She's a smart little cookie is Thing Two yet I was prepared and nonchalantly said, whilst still trying to resurrect some semblance of a sitting room from the ashes of play 'It's been on the news'
Game set and match to me. I could virtually hear a frightful little gulp as her brow creased in thought, her currently none purple and none prickly tongue doing a frantic tango around her mouth. She was on the very ebb of belief as she asked me several more times if I was telling the truth.
Now don't get me wrong, I would have confessed eventually and although perturbed she wasn't upset, I'm not that awful. I could hear the cogs of her mind null the whole motion of Toetus over versus our family's infamous sense of humour as she disappeared upstairs. You see, The Party of Five are, for want of a better phrase, a bunch of wind up merchants.
I went upstairs some time later to confess only to be met with the smug accusational stare and dead pan retort 'I know its not true you know. I asked dad'
Still no worse then when The Husband told them that if Thing One didn't put his shoes on properly his feet would fall off.....Thing Two then relayed this revelation to some of their peers causing a minor panic towards the mortality and future mobility of their grandad who apparently never puts his shoes on properly.
Perhaps The Husband and I really should find a better hobby ....