Spitting in Boots

One thing we rarely do here is rent movies. That is, we’ve never rented a film in the ‘traditional’ sense; we watch them through our cable networks ‘movies on demand.’ I don’t even have a blockbuster account here, which feels a bit wierd. I sort of miss wandering through Hastings back home, and ending up with a pile of movies, half of which we’ll actually watch in our allotted five days if we’re lucky, and pounds of sugar-laden treats. So, James being gone this weekend (down in Oxford, lucky sod), I’ve let the kids pick a movie each night. We’re currently watching Flushed Away, which they actually saw in the theatre but was apparently so astoundingly hilarious that it warranted a second (and third) viewing. I love watching funny things at home because Nyssa can laugh as uproariously as she wants, and it’s cute when she gets going. She’s pretty impressive actually–when we go to the panto, she manages to be heard laughing over all the other hundreds of kids in the audience.

So, slight change in Nyssa’s dollhouse plans. We’re going with Sylvanian families. Reason 1: you can get baby penguin twins. Reason 2: you can have a family of kitties. Reason 3: you can get a Rosie and Jim-style river boat. It’s all too much cute to bear. We’re going for this house, I believe. Argos is selling one with a bunch of furniture. I’m still unsure where we’re going to put the thing..

Now, those of you who know my kids know that for the most part, they’re fairly reasonable and behave pretty well. This is no good for the child-parent relationship, however. The child has evolved such that it has a basic need to mess with the parent’s head. Keeping me offbalance must be adaptive. This would be why my kids rarely fight, but, for example, the other day Joseph came up to me with a confused and annoyed look on his face and told me that Nyssa had spat in his wellie. I was aghast, not because it was so terribly horrible, I mean spitting in boots is sort of funny because it’s so ridiculous. I was just completely at a loss as to how to deal with it. She ended up getting a two-pronged lecture. She knows that spitting is disgusting, for one thing, and for that reason should never have given in to whatever gut feeling told her to hoick on Joseph’s stuff. Second, she got the ‘spitting in many cultures is the most vile insult you can give, sometimes it’s even a curse!’ speech, and that seemed to shock her. Anyway, I wonder how long this trend will last. I’m getting wrinkles on my forehead from my eyebrows shooting up in ‘what the hell were you thinking!?!?’ parenting moments.

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