#97: Out of the Mouths of Babes

#97: Out of the Mouths of Babes
3 minutes to read

Just when you think you’ve got parenting pegged, the goalposts move and you find yourself double taking at something your child has said, mouth agog. Sometimes it’s infuriating, usually it’s cringe, and very often it’s proper lol funny.

It’s Red Nose Day today, and so to get in the spirit of things and impart a little joie de vivre to your day, here are a few Mouse Classics. If one of them makes you smile, or even lol, perhaps you’ll consider making a small (or big!) donation to Comic Relief?


Scene: Poking her way around a plate of sumptuous Cottage Pie rammed full of 10 vegetables and sprinkled with no less than three types of cheese (dog ends, innit):

Her: “Mummy, what are these? These yellow things?

Me: “They’re lentils.”

Her: “Oh.”

Me: “Is that ok?”

Her: “I’m really sorry but no. I can’t eat yentils [sic], they make my legs ache and I won’t be able to sleep.”


Scene: Hanging over the side of the bath while I shower, because whoever wants to shower alone these days?

Her: “Mummy, why have you got one big booby and one small booby?”

Me: “Er, because the big one has lots of milk for Moo later. So when I feed her, that booby will go small and it’ll tell the other one to fill up.”

Her: “I’m going to have five babies when I’m big, and you can help me feed them booby milk.”

Me: “That’s ambitious. But yeahsurewhatever. Can you pass me that conditioner?”

Her: “If you grow some more boobies on your tummy, like a cow, then you can feed all of my five babies…”


Scene: Trying to extract her and her sister from my mother in law’s house one Monday, where time is at a premium and we need to get home and THEY WILL NOT HURRY UP.

Me: “Last time of asking now, come on. Put the blanket down and find your shoes.”

Her: “It’s not a blanket, I’m Red Riding Hood. This is my cape.”

Me: “Alright, Red Riding Hood. Shall we get your shoes before the wolf comes?”

Her: “My name isn’t Red Riding Hood, it’s Salmon.”

Me: “————“


Scene: Cleaning up breakfast from the floor (always) and noticing that Mouse is faceplanting the patio doors, like a goldfish:

Me: “Er, do you mind? Could you not do that please as you’re getting smears all over the glass.”

Her: “Sorry, I’m saying hello to the delicate sheep.”

Me: “Right…where is there a delicate sheep?”

Her: “Just there, look. Behind the very small owl.”

Sure enough, peeking out from behind an indeterminate bush, there is in fact a sheep and an owl. And I guess the sheep does look rather delicate.


Scene: Trying to ascertain what she’s eaten that day at pre-school:

Me: “So what did you have for your lunch?”

Her: (in the manner of a 1950’s man, clad in a wifebeater vest and stained slacks) “Meat. Tayters [sic]. Peas.”

Me: “Oh, er, sounds nice! What sort of meat? Chicken? Beef?”

Her: “Nah, just meat.”

Me: “How about for tea?”

Her: “Quesadillas.”


How about you, what have your children said to make you stop, think, and laugh? Tell me about it, then bung Comic Relief a fiver.

-SJW March 2017


  1. March 24, 2017 / 1:20 pm

    The delicate sheep is at least 9 years old and her hind legs are particularly delicate!! The owl was a present from Anna’s granny that we forgot was there. Whoops!

    • March 24, 2017 / 1:44 pm

      Both are thriving and as yet not obliterated by frost, high winds or boisterous hands!

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