As most parents of sons will know, it is often only during the drive to and from school that you can get any decent conversation out of pre-adolescent boys.

Most other conversations revolve around the provision of food and managing the complaints department (WHY can’t we have chocolate biscuits for breakfast, WHY are girls so stupid, WHY can’t I drive the car, WHY do I have to go to bed, WHY can’t the puppies sleep in my room, WHY do I have to have sisters anyway, etc etc…).

There are times, however, when the conversations from the back seat are not all joy...

It was my son’s 11^th birthday not long ago, and my beloved brother and sister in law kindly bestowed upon him a Roald Dahl book and a rubber chicken.

The book was greeted with some joy (my son has discovered that books can be useful when you are banned from using the computer because you put puppy poo in your sister’s bed) but it was utterly outshone by the rubber chicken.

The rubber chicken is small and yellow and when you squeeze it, it pops a rubbery raw-egg like thing out a hole in its bottom.

The squeezy chicken accompanied us on the drive to school the other morning. Through the whole long slow trek up Chapel St (behind not one, but TWO trams) Luke and Bella took turns at squeezing the chicken and shrieking with laughter when the ‘egg’ appeared.

Somewhere around Alma Rd they settled down a bit and started discussing it a bit more seriously, which is when the following conversation took place:

Bella: Muum. Why is the egg coming out its bottom? Eggs don’t really come out of chickens bottom do they?

Me: (uneasily) Umm…no, they have another ...um...hole for the eggs to come out.

Luke: Yeah, it's called the eggsit hole (collapses into uncontrollable laughter).

Bella: Muu-uum, is it really called the eggsit hole?

Me: (slightly unsteady voice) No, it's not called an eggsit hole, it's... umm... I’m not quite sure….

Bella: Muu-uum, where do the eggs come from then?

Me: Ummm.....

Luke: Bella, you're such an idiot, eggs come from CHICKENS VAGINAS!!!

Me: (undignified snorting noises)

Bella: They do NOT Luke, don’t be so gross.

Luke: Yes, they do, Bella you don’t know anything. Eggs do so come from CHICKENS VAGINAS

Bella: They do NOT!!

Luke: Do too! Ask Mum!

Bella: (tearfully): Muum, eggs don't really come from chickens vaginas do they?

Me: umm.... well, umm.... oh look over there - a man on a bike...

Luke: Mum! Stop it. You know it’s true, just tell her that eggs come from CHICKENS VAGINAS and I’m right and she’s wrong AGAIN ‘cause girls are stupid.

ME: (incoherent mumbling)

Bella: Muuum, muuuuuum, it’s not really true is it!!

Me: (very deep breath) Well, umm. I guess… yes, they do... in a way....

Silence.

Luke: I told you so.

Bella: (looking crushed) Oowwwhh, but I LIKE eggs, what am I going to eat now? Mum, why did you give me eggs from chickens vaginas? That’s GROSS (starts sobbing).

Luke: You're such an idiot Bella.

Moral of the story: Don’t teach your children how to talk, it’s only going to lead to trouble later on

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