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3 year old son in the back of the car talking about bottoms. “I’ve got a bottom, you’ve got a bottom, baby’s got a bottom, daddy’s got a bottom, that lady’s got a bottom, the bin’s got a bottom…” and etcetera for the entire drive home, until the coup de grâce, as he scrambled out of the car and shrieked “Hello Mr Bottom Man” to the lovely gay man who lived next door. Son then danced merrily into the house leaving me to face the reproachful gaze of Lovely Gay Man and listen meekly to his homily on the evils of indoctrinating children with bigotry and prejudice.

Trying to get to the chemist in a hurry led to a slight touch parking incident, which in turn lead to muttered “FUCK” under my breath, not remembering that 18 month old boy was in the back seat. As I went to extract him from his baby seat, tiny baby voice said “fark” in my ear. Very mature am I, so I started to giggle. Charmed by easy victory, cherubic baby was carried into nice suburban chemist happily saying “fark” in my ear at regular intervals. I walked up to the counter trying to shush him and asked nice matronly chemist lady for aspirin. “Fark” yelled Baby cheerfully. Giggles turned to gasping hysterics as Baby continued to shout “Fark….fark….FARK” at deeply affronted chemist lady while I was clutching the counter laughing so hard I couldn’t speak. Eventually managed to calm myself enough to stumble out the door, clutching happily “fark”ing baby. It took months to undo that one.

Small daughter announcing, in clarion tones, to the check out boy (and the at least 15 people within clear hearing range) at Coles “I’ve got pink undies on today, see? So does my mummy but hers don’t have any bottom in them”.

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