On Sunday we decided to have a quiet day, which meant that lunch wasn’t a grand affair. But there was Weber chicken and butternut and salad (and of course the obligatory potatoes).
Isabel and Daniel were too busy colouring in, so we left them with a threat of no desert and had ourselves a lovely chat with Mignon. I love this age that they are all at now. We love to hear what is going on in their minds and we have some really fun conversations, such as extended suggestions on what to wish for when you throw money in a wishing well (real feather wings) and what Father Christmas should bring (pixie dust and a microphone* and all things Barbie). Mignon is a very earnest and caring little girl, even though everything seems to be very dramatic at the moment and life is very serious. We do sigh and roll our eyes sometime, yes.
Anyhoo, one of the things we were talking about yesterday was how, when I was a little girl my Mom told me that I had to eat all my pumpkin if I wanted curly hair and Mignon duly looked at my hair and suggested that I must have eaten a fair amount of pumpkin as a child. It was Sunday and my hair was just left to dry, always a recipe for disaster.
It made me think about all the old wives’ tales we were told as children to scare the living crap out of us, such as
- Don’t go to bed with dirty feet, you’ll have nightmares (I still believe this btw)
- Don’t pull your face like that, if the clock strikes 12 it will stay that way
- Don’t walk around barefoot; you’ll have bad period pains (still trying to get my head around that one)
What were the scary stories that you were told as a child? Do you tell your kids any scary stories?
*I have it on good authority that my Mother has bought the children EACH a microphone for Christmas. I have asked for earplugs for Christmas.