We’re sitting in the garden as a bright day gently turns to night. Our small fluff headed rabbit stalks and teases. One minute he dashes across the newly mown lawn as if possessed, the next he hops over Miss E’s legs and twitches his nose, eyeing Miss M before tossing her yellow plastic sand toy in the air.
The ground beneath us is sun dried, paddling pool drenched and rabbit nibbled, yet I couldn’t imagine anywhere I’d rather be with my two little girls right now.
Miss M curls onto her knees, wiggles a little, then looks from her sister to me, frowning slightly while a small smile creeps across her face.
Miss M: ”Can you smell onions?”
Me: ”No babe.”
Miss M: ”Well it’s me.”
I think for a moment about what food has passed my 5 year old’s lips today. There have been no onions. Miss M elaborates…
Miss M: ”It’s my bottom.”
You’re not surprised right? I mean, another ‘fart’ moment with my youngest child is let’s face it, no biggy, when the majority of the last 3 or 4 years of her life have been pretty much highlighted by the word “trump”; but to be honest on this occasion it’s what came out of her sister’s mouth that is truly shocking.
Miss E: ”Oh my Bob Mum. She smells of Great Yarmouth.”

I have no idea




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August 3rd, 2010 at 5:48 pm
I’ve never been to Great Yarmouth, and now, from acknowledging it smells of oniony farts, I don’t think I ever want to…
August 3rd, 2010 at 5:56 pm
The thing is, it didn’t. I mean, it’s 2 years since we went there but I really don’t have a memory of it smelling of colcannon. Maybe my almost-10-year-old is just a bit odd??
August 4th, 2010 at 4:14 pm
It could have been a lot worse. It could have smelt like Bognor Regis!
August 4th, 2010 at 9:55 pm
tee hee…..I continue to just love that girl to pieces. ♥
August 5th, 2010 at 12:31 am
That is the sort of thing I say all the time, such and such smells like *insert random time/place/object here*
Although mine are quite specific, for example…’It smells like that time down by the lake in france in August 1996 when we’d just had donuts’ or ‘It smells like 5:45am on a friday morning in the P&O loading car park at Dover’ and so on and so forth…its a talent that should be nurtured!! xx
August 5th, 2010 at 3:20 pm
I may have to find somewhere else for next year’s holiday…
August 6th, 2010 at 1:01 am
Having been to Great Yarmouth this year (via the Norfolk Broads) all I can remember is chips – never been to a chip stall market before. To us the smell of onions is Plymouth – I can certainly “Top Trump” your daughter on this one, but I don’t think the story is really for public consumption!
August 6th, 2010 at 3:36 pm
Haha….she’s not selling it to me I’m afraid!
August 6th, 2010 at 4:07 pm
What cracks me up is Miss E saying “Oh my Bob.” Hee hee…love it!