I woke up this morning feeling spectacularly full of the joys of spring, which was nice.
Hence me singing as I was pottering around the kitchen doing my nine hundredth job of the morning. I was prepping a huge vat full of ratatouille for tonight’s dinner, while Tallulah was toasting some crumpets.
She has now elected to be in charge of her own lunch box and apparently, soggy crumpets wrapped in cling film are all the go with the Year Sevens. Who am I to argue? Plus, it saves me a job.
I was singing: ‘Two crumpets…wider than a mile…such a lovely sight to see,’ to the tune of Moon River, when Tilly piped up:
‘Mama, could you put five crumpets in your mouth at once?’
Me: ‘Probably…dum de dum de dum…five crumpets….annnnnd, meeeeeee.’
Tallulah: ‘If you tried that we’d have to do the Heimlich Remover.’
Tilly: ‘Manoeuvre, manoeuvre, not remover.’
Tallulah: ‘No! It’s remover you idiot. A Heimlich is the name for a little piece of food you get stuck in your throat (or in my case, five crumpets) and you do the remover to remove it. Duh!’
Tilly: ‘No! Heimlich was the name of the man who invented the manoeuvre to remove the little bits of food stuck in your throat. You idiot.’
Tallulah: ‘Oh! Well that’s a wasted opportunity. Fancy him not wanting to be named after things that get stuck in your throat.’
Tilly: ‘It’s not exactly glamorous is it?’
Tallulah: ‘I’d consider it an honour, myself.’
Tilly: ‘Good! In that case I’m re-naming phlegm, Tallulah from now on.’
Tilly: ‘Quite. Now remove yourself, you’re in my way.’