Some Mothers, Who'd Have Em

Hanging with my Mother recently, hanging in almost but not quite every meaning of the word, I was treated to some choice morsels that served to remind me where I get my dreadful sense of humour, direction and general silliness from.

As we chatted about the state of the world, my face and her hair, a trailer for The Tudors came on tv. 'Was it Henry the 8th and his 6 wives or Henry the 6th and his 8 wives?' I wondered, to which my mother replied - 'Which one was beheaded? Mary Queen Of Squats?'.

After we calmed down she told me of the following exchange she had with an unfamiliar 4 year old:

Some children were playing in our garden and one in particular was so tiny and unknown to mam she was concerned he was way too small to be far from home.

'Where do you live?'

Child points in a general direction.

'Will your mammy not be looking for you?'

'I don't have a mammy'.

'Oh, well then will your daddy not be looking for you?'

'I don't have a daddy'.

'Then will your nana or granda be looking for you?'

'I don't have a nana or granda'.

'Who do you live with then?'

'I live by meself'

'Who makes your dinner then?'

'I do'.

'Then what do you make for your dinner?'

'Fish. And crocodiles'.

'How do you make crocodiles?'

'In tin foil'.

Funny little weirdo, that child is going to be great craic. Total waffler by the way, he lives with full, non reptile eating family down the end of our road. But the images it conjures up: priceless.


PUTRID DUNNE