Friday Post

Poisonous substances.  To adults these include bottles of bleach, cleaning products, chemicals, so on and so forth.  Kids see it in a whole different way; soap, toothpaste, shampoo, fruit, vegetables etc.

I am not eating that!  It’s green! 

Objection, your honour!  Green does not get you off the hook.

Do I really have to explain?  I have seen boys examine the extricated contents of their nose and sample it. (Not my own boys.  That would be gross!  And mine are perfect.  Ahem.)

So when it comes to broccoli for example, I cut it up with a scissors and hide it in their food.   

Then I tell them it’s green gravy.  Gloop gravy.  You know, like the goo in Ghostbusters. 

Whaddaya mean you’ve never heard of it?  You watched Ghostbusters last week, remember?  There was green gravy everywhere!

There wasn’t? 

Oh.

Well, there should have been.

I can be a bit faddy myself I suppose.  At the moment my current thing is juicing fruit and vegetables.  I’ve borrowed a juicer and liked a Juice Master on Facebook.  His book also came with the juicer.

I read the book and marked the juices I want to try.

Then I went out, bought some fresh beetroot, ginger, bananas, apples and made ice cubes.   

That was last weekend. 

The bananas are gone.  Thanks, lads.  The apples, almost. Lunch boxes, see?

I’ve still got a vacuum packed quartet of beetroot and a large bag of ice-cubes in the freezer.  Plus several knuckles of ginger.  Did you know that’s what lumps of ginger are called?  And when you are cooking with it, you’re told to snap off a thumb sized piece.  Isn’t that mad altogether, Ted?

The juicer?

The juicer is still in its box. 

P.S.  I apologise for the lazy title.  And post.  At the time of writing/finishing/editing/thinking about what picture to use/how to get out of bringing them to football, all I wanted to do was climb into bed with a bottle of wine and something girly to watch on the TV.  The lads were upstairs, all of them, at least I think it was the lads.  It sounded like a herd of baby elephants but I know baby elephants can’t laugh, shout or throw things about.  The thoughts of what awaits me up there, is giving me the heebie jeebies.