Friday, 24 August 2007

"Big Wink"

Now i know this may be an unsavoury subject to some, but there is just no getting round the fact that Monsieur L'Oeuf is currently somewhat obsessed over his 'winkie'. There - I've said it. Having mentioned before that I grew up in a family of fairly refined (if not a little rough n' tumble in the hair pulling and shoving department) little girls, this is all completely new to me...and rather strange.

I've always known that men have a close relationship to their nether-regions. Fair enough. If i had an extra appendage dangling about between my thighs 24/7, I imagine i'd be fairly aware of it as well. Nonetheless from a child psychology point of view, I am witnessing first hand just how far back this lifetime bond is created.

All this to say that I now have my ears perked for the thrice daily or so sing-song chime of,

"Big Wink...Big Wink"

This means that the winkie is out and is being fondly gazed upon or stroked as we both look, unstaring, at the engorged organ. Now in all fairness, yes, it is quite sizable, but between 3 year old thighs any girth is going to appear substantial. The point is, having Egg naked from the waist down for extended periods of time (due to ongoing toilet training measures) means that said winkie is just a little too accessible for my liking. I also realise that men never get over this fixation, and proof can be seen in such adult pursuits and purchases like motorcycles, electric guitars and 'Testerossa's'...need I say more? (Can you imagine if men never ceased such honest, forthright declarations of their bodily functions? You could be in meetings and the CEO would look down and exclaim joyfully to the assembled shareholders, "Big Wink...Big Wink". Oh but wait a minute - they kind of already do, don't they...just in much more elevated terminology and by flashing Rolex wrist candy and adjusting thousand dollar ties.)

Right now Egg is feeding Dumps his bowl of shreddies. I eat shreddies, so Egg now eats shreddies, and that means that Dumps does too. He prods a huge mouthful encouragingly towards Dumps tiny mouth,

"Come on chubby your cereal"

I don't blame Egg for calling him that, as he is a tad bit chubby (though wears it well, and only upon close examination of the deliciously squishy thighs does it become evident), but it's more his ear-splitting shrieks and squeals which befit the rooster comparison. He clearly loves his brother and the devotion is returned two-fold from Dumps. Several times in the past few days I have witnessed Dumps leaning in for an affectionate open-mouthed kiss and laying his head down on Egg's chest for a cuddle. There is nothing sweeter in the universe to behold.

As for today, I only have until 7pm or so to wait until the return of 'Dada' - a situation Egg is treating like the 'Second Coming'.

"Mama, when is Dada coming back?"

"Mama, how come Dada has to go away?"

"Mommy is it almost time for Dada to come back?"

This question is put forth several times an hour and it's starting to grate. However I am more intrigued by the fact that Egg has started to call me 'Mommy' instead of the usual 'Mama'. It's come out of nowhere, and Egg himself seems to delight in saying the word, using it as many times as he possibly can in any one sentence.

"Mommy, when can we go to the park with 'Diggerman' and dig some holes in the sand Mommy?"

I've asked him why he now calls me 'Mommy' and he says, "I dunno Mommy. But sometimes I will call you 'Patasha' too."

Alrighty then.

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