Friday, 18 September 2009

... and the gullet of the mother shall be passed down unto the sons ...

When Dave watches me eat or drink, he calls me "the gullet." Which is SO romantic. It's true, I have a huge capacity to fit things in my mouth (insert witty joke about blowjobs here) ... it's no surprise I've won every beer skulling competition I went in.

I have sat at the dinner table after eating, taken a sip of my sparkling mineral water, to find half a glass is gone. It makes me feel proud that Dave is so disgusted ... I say "I KNOW! CAN YOU IMAGINE ME IN MY DRINKING DAYS!!!" He almost shudders.

It appears I am harbouring a certain son with certain gullet-like tendencies of his own. I bought Max a roll of bubble gum as a treat .... parked the car, turned to him, and saw this:


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"Is that empty??"

He could only nod in agreement.

Then, the very next day, he had to read a book to his class. He chose Mr Noisy, his favourite of the Mr Men books. I happened to make a cake that night and asked Dave to ice Mr Noisy onto it, to celebrate Max's achievement. He did, we called Max downstairs and he was SO excited. Dave and I stood chatting while Max cut his cake. We turned around to see the piece he'd cut for himself:



SERIOUSLY. Max saw our faces, said, "Ummmmm, maybe it's a little bit big??"



I wonder if gluttony is learned or genetic. We have been known to search underneath Rocco's highchair for food he's obviously dropped because nobody could eat that quickly.

We never find anything.
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