The day started with a lively conversation about mummified vaginas, after the three year old insisted that his father open a tin of smoked mussels for breakfast.
Later, as I got the baby out of the car, he managed to vomit with such force that it shot over my shoulder and splattered down the drivers side window of the car parked next to us. Is it wrong to laugh when the baby spews on a volvo?
After school one of the girls panicked when she thought she had her fist stuck in her mouth. It almost always ends in tears when it begins with the words; “I bet you can’t…”
The day ended with pee on my shoes, vomit in my cleavage and a goofy grin on my face.
After all, if you don’t laugh you’ll cry, cause some days are just like that.