Tuesday, 15 May 2012

Scrapyard gourmet

Gabriel's got a new game he likes to play with us now, unofficially known as 'Hey Parents, Guess What I've Got In My Mouth (Before I Run Away)'. It does pretty much what it says on the tin. The kid is fast turning into a small human dustbin; so far this week, I've recovered a chunk of plaster he picked out of the wall, an ancient toast crust, a bottle top, some business cards, and some assorted woodlice. Very rarely, though, will you find fresh food that tastes pleasant in his mouth - shit like that simply isn't up to The Monk's discerning gourmet standards. It's like a scrapyard in there. Constantly keeping one eye on his grabby little hands and his Aladdin's Cave of a mouth and the other on the PC is giving me a migraine. I'm starting to look like Marty Feldman.

"Got my eye on you, kiddo."

Shit's getting tough, now that Monk's walking. The TV stand is a source of endless fascination for him, especially the Sky box. He manages to record programmes (usually some mildly distressing crap involving televangelists, the freak) completely by accident, and then play them back over and over and OVER again, and d'you think mama's got that shizz figured out yet? Does she buggery. I can barely change the channel successfully without throwing a tanty. He stands there, merrily pressing all the buttons he can get his sticky little fingers on, so we've pretty much given up trying to watch anything on TV now. We only get 'Eastenders' punctuated by overexcited pastors who WANT-AH your MONEY-AH PRAISE THA LAWD!!!!

The boy's also mastered the Advanced Sofa Climb, as we discovered one day when we found him perched on the sofa by the living room window, shouting at passing pedestrians and attempting to rip his nappy off, Hulk-style. I wish I could've got a picture, but sadly mama was all "Oh my fucking CHRIST Gabriel get DOWN and stop SHOUTING" and slightly more concerned with preventing the bloody kid from launching himself out the window. Sorry peeps.

It's a pity that he hasn't quite got to grips with the whole sofa dismounting thing though. As soon as he got bored with licking the window and smooshing his open mouth onto it like some kind of simpleton goldfish, he started looking for a way down. The concentration on his face was something to behold as he stared at the seat, then at the floor, and back again. He formulated a cunning plan, and I grabbed the popcorn. This gon' be GOOD.

So off he goes. I watch in paralysed fascination as he inches forward on his bum, peeps over the edge... and fucking bellyflops to the floor. He sounds like a boulder being dropped from a first-floor window. I finally manage to make my legs work and run to scoop him up, just as the window-rattling howl of injustice escapes from his gummy little mouth. Gabriel often forgets to breathe when he's in full wailing mode, which I like to call "The Carla Bruni Effect". His entire body goes bright pink and rigid, his mouth gapes open cartoon-fashion, the tears start brimming in his eyes, his little fists shake and he stays like that for a good 10-20 seconds before he unleashes the crying beast (along with a stream of babble that might be swearing, I can't tell). Thank THA LAWD!!!! he can't talk yet. I get the feeling he's going to be bloody verbal when he's pissed off.

His first word, I'm almost certain, will be "MINE." I can see it in his eyes. Carpet cleaner? Mine. Contents of mama's bag? Once emptied onto the carpet and given the taste test (including receipts and keys), mine. Empty yogurt pot? Got my name on it, lady. The game ejected out of the Wii while Daddy wasn't looking? I OWN that shit, at least until I snap it in half, in which case it's Mama's and I had nothing to do with it. You get the picture.

Wow, I can really go on - I've just read this back to myself and all I can see is a pixellated ream of shit. Probably where The Monk gets it from. Later, kids - I'm off to fling myself off the sofa and send all my money to some religious nutjobs. You've been a great crowd, I'm here all week. Don't rush to applaud or anything, okay?


  1. I am totally stealing the Carla Bruni effect line. A-WOWW has her second round of vaccines coming up, and that is TOTALLY what she does when she gets a shot. You'll probably be able to hear her all the way from England.

  2. Never a dull moment reading this <3 xxx