I opened my eyes this morning in bed. Bloody hell! My back was killing me, Jessica’s toe nails were cutting into my ankle and I was not sure I could roll over to get up.
Reminder switch – Cut Jessica’s toe nails tonight after her bath. Bloody Hell, hope I remember that.

We finished our little morning snuggle and with a quick peck, we were both up.  Her faster than me.  I crawled onto my exercise mat, yes I exercise every morning, and began my routine – stretch, stomach, butt and back, stretch, sun salutation, done…. that was over thank bloody goodness.

I managed to wash, dress and make it downstairs before the kitchen was deserted. Jess never eats with us, she tumbles out of our bed, stumbles downstairs and fills her tummy immediately. She is always starving in the morning and cannot wait to eat. Steve gets very upset. Bloody hell, I will never get to eat with that kid.

By the time we get downstairs washed and dressed, she is tumbling upstairs to do the same.

This morning is a mission, Steve and I are both late. Usually it is the other way around.

Breakfast bowls are on the table, yoghurt, cereal, milk. Sean has eaten his egg already and practiced his music and is tapping his foot lightly, joking and fooling around. Which he does every morning.

Steve is too late. Vitamins will have to be forfeited this morning. I’ll do them, I say and start taking out the 101 pills we take to keep healthy, mission impossible!

I flippantly go through the list of to do’s with Sean. Jess is not around to check, I’ll check her later.  It is like a game trying to find: “That which has not been done yet.” Eaten? School lunch packed? Face washed? Teeth brushed? PE clothes packed? Pill taken? Vitamins? No? Found out! You need to remember to take your vitamins.
He grabs the second glass for the day.  Now wonder we don’t ever have any clean glasses. Swallows the vitamins and proceeds to give a huge hiccup.

And there it is!

BLOODY HELL, he says, that hurt.

At the same moment, I am taking out the last vitamin for Steve and I. It is red and in tinfoil packaging. I cut my finger, seriously cut my finger.

BLOODY HELL, I say, that was sore, shit!

Sean’s statement comes out first though or perhaps mine was less dramatic and quieter. His is holding his heart and his stomach and stumbling around in pain. BUT his statement was heard, mine not.  I am ignored, Sean is not.

Steve and I, with blood dripping from my finger, surge into the exasperated deluge of parenting.

You know you are not allowed to swear!
We have spoken about this numerous times!
What if a teacher hears you?
You will be in sooooo much trouble. (there is no dammit at the end of the sentence).
My father would have beaten me black and blue if I ever said that type of thing at your age, gosh I said fart at 16 and got into so much trouble.
Sean. Really you can go black and blue?  I show him my bruise from hitting myself with my tennis racquet (another story, you had to be there). Wow, you CAN go both colours and pink and red.
I want to smack him!
That is not the point. THE POINT is your use of BLOODY HELL all the time, it will become a habit.
Sean. I get it from you guys, you say it all the time.


PUNISHMENT. We all have to forfeit watching TV tonight and every time we use foul language!

BONUS. Games Evening.

REMINDER. Number 2, watch spewing of profanities from now on.

WILL NEED. To watch what we say in future, BLOODY HELL!