So I am having my two hours 'private time' . Two small hours, only 120 minutes when MIC is suppose to deal with the lads. I have this once a week, on a Sunday usually.
But today is one of THOSE days .... Poor MIC.
My quiet time is quite trying. I have had well over 20 knocks at the door and boys in and out with various issues, ailments and complaints against management. Including MIC. Seems no-one can do without me today ...
The latest ... Darling Boy.
Knock Knock - come in
"What's wrong sweetie?"
"I have hurt my goolies"
"Ohh , that's no good, how did you do that?"
"On the fly door" (he means the fly screened french door).
I administer one hug and attempt to send him on his way. No luck
"Where's the kiss better?" DB forlornly asks ...
I bend my head down and aim a kiss just below the belly button.
"No, that's not it, here" he indicates the goolie region clearly for me by thrusting his wee pelvis forward.
"Right, here we go then". I am now down on all fours kissing his crutch.
Done, I emerge expecting a smiling face.
I get the smiling face and the passing comment as he skips out of the room ...
"Did you get wind in your face mummy?".
Thankfully no, the winds of DB were not blowing at that precise moment.