Mums
Mrs Liveinabin tells us: My mum told me to eat my vegetables, or I wouldn't get any pudding. I'm 32 and told her I could do what I like. I ate my vegetables. Tell us about mums.
( , Thu 11 Feb 2010, 13:21)
Mrs Liveinabin tells us: My mum told me to eat my vegetables, or I wouldn't get any pudding. I'm 32 and told her I could do what I like. I ate my vegetables. Tell us about mums.
( , Thu 11 Feb 2010, 13:21)
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Ah my dear old mum.
I've mentioned her before in the qotw, as she's sadly no longer with us.
My mum was great. She never swore (well, nothing stronger than bugger, or the occasional shit), and was very proper. Sex was something which was never discussed openly, and my entire sex education during my formative years was a curt "I know what goes on up in your room, I'm not as silly as you think. So don't worry about it."
Due to this rather old fashioned way of looking at things (which I think in many ways is better than today's attitude. 8 year old girls wandering around looking like they're on their way to a nightclub and sex education getting piped into the womb through a tube), you can imagine the hilarity when the unavoidable double entendres slipped in. My mum had a hilarious high pitched laugh when she realised she'd just said something incredibly filthy by accident.
Like the time they got some new windows put in. While putting them in, the workmen somehow managed to crack the inner pane of glass on the front window. They were returning the next day to replace it so it was no big deal really, but when my friend arrived at the door he was greeted with the immortal line "Hello Eddie. Have you seen my big crack?" She never even noticed she had said it, and left my friend struggling for breath at the front door.
The best by far, though, was during one of her little visits to my house. She used to pop in most nights while walking the dog just to say hello, and usually only stayed a few minutes as she would have had something cooking at home for when my dad got home from work. That night, it was chicken thighs. Well, she sat for a few minutes chatting away, then suddenly she jumped up, remembering the food at home. "Oh no! I need to go!" she cried. "Your dad's thighs will be burning!" Again, she never realised what she had said until she turned to see me laying gasping for air on the couch, then the puzzled look turned to realisation, then embarrasment, then hilarity as she collapsed in tears of laughter as well.
My dad looked puzzled the next day when I enquired about his scorched thighs, too.
( , Mon 15 Feb 2010, 15:25, Reply)
I've mentioned her before in the qotw, as she's sadly no longer with us.
My mum was great. She never swore (well, nothing stronger than bugger, or the occasional shit), and was very proper. Sex was something which was never discussed openly, and my entire sex education during my formative years was a curt "I know what goes on up in your room, I'm not as silly as you think. So don't worry about it."
Due to this rather old fashioned way of looking at things (which I think in many ways is better than today's attitude. 8 year old girls wandering around looking like they're on their way to a nightclub and sex education getting piped into the womb through a tube), you can imagine the hilarity when the unavoidable double entendres slipped in. My mum had a hilarious high pitched laugh when she realised she'd just said something incredibly filthy by accident.
Like the time they got some new windows put in. While putting them in, the workmen somehow managed to crack the inner pane of glass on the front window. They were returning the next day to replace it so it was no big deal really, but when my friend arrived at the door he was greeted with the immortal line "Hello Eddie. Have you seen my big crack?" She never even noticed she had said it, and left my friend struggling for breath at the front door.
The best by far, though, was during one of her little visits to my house. She used to pop in most nights while walking the dog just to say hello, and usually only stayed a few minutes as she would have had something cooking at home for when my dad got home from work. That night, it was chicken thighs. Well, she sat for a few minutes chatting away, then suddenly she jumped up, remembering the food at home. "Oh no! I need to go!" she cried. "Your dad's thighs will be burning!" Again, she never realised what she had said until she turned to see me laying gasping for air on the couch, then the puzzled look turned to realisation, then embarrasment, then hilarity as she collapsed in tears of laughter as well.
My dad looked puzzled the next day when I enquired about his scorched thighs, too.
( , Mon 15 Feb 2010, 15:25, Reply)
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