This Six Year Old Calls People Fat

Fat People Can’t Fit Past Things Without Getting Squashed

[Their bums are too big!]

What happens when your six-year-old has no tact filter? I wither into the ground in embarrassment under the debilitating stare of evil eyes as she calls people fat. Yes, my six-year-old Miss Charlie called someone “fat” – to their face! And I die from embarasment. Awkward!

And she seems so sweet and innocent here right?

For most people, the arrival of 3 o’clock signals a change in the day. It marks the end of lunch time, the end of having ‘all the time in the world’ and marks the arrival of impending deadlines. For BossMum, 3pm marks the winding down of her day at the office, meaning she’ll soon be back with her babies. For The Twins, it means they are released from the confines of rigid lessons and join the creativity and self-expression that is ballet. To Beansie, the beloved family dog, it surely hints at the chance to stretch her legs at the park. If she’s lucky, it might also mean the opportunity to snaffle a momentarily forgotten sandwich or to chase after a too friendly bird.

For me, 3pm signals that any task not already finished will have to be left forgotten until the next day. Which lands me straight into the Witching Hour and puts me on the back foot before tomorrow has even arrived. For MissCharlie, it marks the beginning of an afternoon filled with unforeseen adventures.

In an effort to see the afternoon transition in an ease of smiles and giggles, our first stop is usually the milk bar to refuel with something sugary, milky or ice-creamy. Something that is definitely not healthy, but entirely tasty.

The next stop is the park, where she and Beansie wrestle around on the grass sharing I missed you so much slobbery kisses. It is where Baby Viv will toddle around, too inquisitive to rest her newly active but tired legs. The park is also the place where I will steal a self-indulgent go on the swings, indulging a childish side that I’m too fond of to part with.

All of this usually occurs under the excited conversations of Miss6 as she informs me of the day’s events. All that she’s learnt, all that she didn’t like, all that she saw in the school yard and all that she mischievously over heard throughout the day. Consequently, she often teaches me a few things whilst she’s at it, even if it is as simple as ‘I must not eavesdrop on conversations I’m not going to like the outcome of’.

This particular afternoon’s routine was no different, save for the slightly embarrassing occurrence of a loudly spoken faux pas. On Miss Charlie’s part of course!

As we wound our way through the throngs of mums and kids along the footpath en route to the park, Miss Charlie ducked and weaved until she successfully found herself out in front. I however, was caught trying to manoeuvre the pram, school bags and ice creams without tripping over the dog who’d wound her leash around my legs. Well played Beansie, because that will get you to the park quicker for sure.

MissCharlie then rather rambunctiously announced to all those within a 2km radius:

‘I love being little, I can fit past everyone and never get squashed!
Fat people can’t though, their bums are too big!’

Tact, what tact? I cringed. Oh MissCharlie, you and that mouth of yours. ‘Whatever will I do with you?‘. Of course, lacking in height myself, I completely agreed with her. I know all too well the advantages to being able to slip past people easily.

However, despite my understanding, her timing couldn’t have been any worse if she’d planned it. As I received the full force of evil eyes and disapproving glares from the family she’d just overtaken, a family who by chance just happened to be quite [large], I attempted to jump to her rescue. If not to save my own hide.

Easing her into safer territory, I announced as equally loud,

Good things come in small packages, just like you and me. Though not everyone can be so lucky.

To which she countered,

‘Yeah, like diamonds’.

Can’t argue with that wisdom now can I.

How to wither on the spot at the mercy of an evil eye; fun times in the #nannylife!

Anyone else died from embarrassment at the hands of their children lately?