Me: “It’s just going to take me a little time to get over this.”


Husband: “You need time to get over me being mean to you…”


Me: “Yes.”


Husband: “…in front of all our friends…”


Me: “Yes.”


Husband: “…in your dream.”


Me: “Yes.”




“I’m not asking for an apology.”


Husband: “Well no. That could possibly be seen as a touch unreasonable.”


Me: “I just need time, you know?”




Husband: “I… ”


Felix, running into the room: “Daddeeeeeee!”


Husband, looking relieved: “Felix!”


Felix: “Daddy you have a willy and mummy haves a bagyyyna!”


*Husband looks less relieved*


Me: “Vagina.”


Felix: “Bagyyyna.”


Me: “Va. Va. VA – GI-NER.”




Husband: “Can everyone please stop saying vagina.”


Me: “He’s not saying vagina. He’s saying bagyna. I’m correcting him. We’d correct him if he was saying other words. This is no different.”


Husband: “Well… ok fine. ”


“Anyway, surely the equivalent to willy is fa…”




Husband: “Ffffffaaaan…”


Me: “Please don’t say that word. It’s gross.”


*Chair leg makes loud scrape on the floor*


*Both dash to catch climbing child & tumbling chair before they hit the ground*


Husband: “Careful Felix!  Chairs are not toys. You could get hurt.”


Felix: “Chairs are not toys.”


Husband: “No. Exactly.”


*hands him battered plastic Postman Pat van*


“Well if not… the F word… then something else…”


Me: ”He’s not calling it a foo foo or a fairy den or something.”


Husband: “Foo foo. Why can’t we say foo foo?”


Me: “He cannot go through life referring to lady bits as foo foos.”


“He’ll never get a girlfriend.”


Husband: “The fact he pees his own pants and shoves toast up his nose will probably prove larger stumbling blocks.”


“By then he won’t be calling it a vagina anyway.”


*whispers* “He’ll call it a pu…”




“He will never say that.”


“Oh my god you’re so gross.”


Husband: “Does he even need a word for it yet?”


Me: “Yes! He needs to know females are not males minus a willy. We are not defined by the absence of something.”


Husband, quickly: “Yep yep, fair point fair point.”


*Moves toward the fridge to avoid fierce battle between Postman Pat and a one-eyed teddy that’s just broken out at our feet.*


“Maybe we just use an already existing word?”


*opens fridge door*




“No… wrong shape.”




Me: “This isn’t a joke you know. This is important.”


Husband: “AVOCADO!”


*triumphantly holds half an avocado wrapped in clingfilm above head in Statue of Liberty-esque pose*


Me: “Urgh. This was exactly how you were being last night.”


Felix: “Careful daddy! Avocados not toys. You will get hurt!”


Husband, catching my glare: “That I might Felix, that I might.”