After working on manners over the holiday, I think I need to move on to lessons in diplomacy.
My children are...too honest, it seems. The latest example came in the confines of the family changing cubicle at our local swimming pool.
"Mummy's tummy is very wobbly!" pronounced one, to the general giggles and chortlement of the others as I was busy getting changed. Chortlement, of course, isn't actually a word, but should be, since it so accurately describes the atmosphere within the cubicle. Though Mummy, it has to be said, was not feeling it.
Particularly not as she had spent the summer determined to get into shape, swimming 30-50 lengths three times a week (and every day on holiday), not to mention occasionally bypassing the camembert and brie.
"Yes," she snapped. Notice I do this third person thing when I don't come out of a situation glowingly. "And her tummy is mostly wobbly because it's had you three in it!"
There. That really told them.
It was on a par with them discussing the fact that Daddy could never have head-lice because his hairs weren't close enough together. Must admit that caused me a small amount of chortlement.
Or when they decided that Nano looked exactly like Mummy only one hundred times wrinklier.
So, I look forward to turning into a wobblier, wrinklier version of myself as the years pass by; and for it not to be acknowledged openly by my children as they gradually become more diplomatic versions of themselves. (Or possibly not, in Eddie's case.)
Currently Reading: A Possible Life by Sebastian Faulks