There I am, innocently enjoying a cup of coffee and a bit of surfing (internet variety, I don't go in for the other sort, gimme a break), when my 14-year-old daughter screams at me from the kitchen.
Daughter: MUM! HELP! There's a needle stuck in my foot.
Mother: A what stuck in your foot? Just a minute ...
Mother goes into kitchen. Daughter is hopping on one leg and announcing that she is dying. Mother looks and sees needle stuck in daughter's foot, with black cotton threaded through it. Mother has no idea how needle got on kitchen floor. Mother attempts to pull needle out of daughter's foot.
Daughter: Don't pull it out! I'll die!
Mother: What else am I supposed to do with it?
Mother pulls out needle. Daughter remains alive.
Daughter: Is there blood on it?
Mother: No. Next time try shoes or slippers.
Daughter returns to cooking pasta, Mother returns to coffee and surfing, assuming crisis is over. A few minutes pass quietly and peacefully by.
Daughter: AAAGGGHHH!!!
Mother: What is it NOW?
Daughter: **BLEEP**BLEEP**BLEEP**
Mother goes into kitchen and discovers floor covered in fusilli, mushrooms, bits of tomato and pasta sauce. Daughter announces she tripped over something and her pasta went all over her arm on its way to the floor and she is now scarred for life (she isn't). Mother tells daughter to leave kitchen and she will cook her some more pasta. Daughter leaves kitchen to go watch TV. Mother screams (therapeutically) and starts cooking.
Moral of Story: I live in a madhouse with mad people.
26 February, 2007
My Daughter is a Prick
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3 comments:
*giggling still*
...or rather your daughter just got you to cook while she watches TV
Interesting technique, I wonder if I could get that to work.
I might have to adjust it as I'm five years older than your daughter though. Maybe I could lodge a sewing machine in my foot?
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