This is the winter holiday season in Norway. An 'exodus' from the cities ensues as many families head to the mountains for a week’s holidays.
Last week, our friends and their children joined us in Narnia. I love children, but I couldn’t eat a whole one. We usually have a crowd of family and friends in the mountains on weekends and holidays, we’re just that sort of folk.
The agenda is pretty straight forward, loads of skiing, more skiing, a warm fire, and general bon viveury, including a big hot dog party for the kids with way too much chocolate, sweeties and games.
I skied with my friend’s 2 young boys aged 4 and 6. The little gremlins are pretty fearless on the hills at that age, zipping off piste into the boreal forest for a little forage every now and then. This can be perilous for anyone over 1 meter tall unless you really like the taste of wood. It is all good fun!
In the mornings, our friends skied with their boys while we looked after their daughter, Mrs. BB’s 4 month old goddaughter. Mrs. BB is a natural with children!
One morning, sitting eating my breakfast, and partaking in activities of the on-line variety, while watching skiing on TV, I was confronted by Mrs. BB holding a crying baby.
As I put bread roll to mouth, Mrs. BB shoved the baby, bottom first into my face.
“Sniff the bum”, demanded Mrs. BB.
I was taken aback. Before I knew what was going on I was gagging as tears formed in the ducts of my eyes. It all happened so quickly!
“Ja, thank you” says me, “what am I, a champion bum sniffer or something?”
“Well, you’re pretty good at it”, she offers.
“Hmmm”, I grumble.
As Mrs. BB attends to the matter at hand, I bin my breakfast and knock back a stiff Aquavit trying to arouse my olfactory senses. It takes a second shot and a Marly light for core systems to return to normal.
Both the baby and I have now stopped crying.
We have more friends with babies coming for Easter, another week long family holiday in the mountains for many Norwegians.
In preparation, I plan to shop for a white lab coat with a pencil protector, a big wooden clothes pin, black horn rimmed glasses, tissues, and a clipboard. In addition, I consider a car air freshener to hang around my neck.
I have a feeling I may be called upon to perform this task again in the future, and I wish to be better prepared for it.
I must not delay, Easter holidays are only 6 weeks away. I am not sure yet what I will do with the clipboard, but at this stage it seems essential.
Beaverboosh
Friday, February 27, 2009
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11 comments:
Beave, if you and the missus ever grow a sprout of your own, get prepared for a shit-streaked dose of real life.
I can still recall with shuddering clarity the time the baby was screeching so hard at diaper time I could hardly stand it. On closer inspection, it turned out she was constipated - blocked, impeded, stuffed.
The solution? I worked out it out with my finger.
That definitely qualifies as "cruel and unusual". Seems to me that Mrs BB is asking for a Dutch oven.
use the clipboard as a bat, and swat the offending stench-bearer far away. my guess? you won't be asked to bum sniff again...
Mrs Beaverboosh should offer you a sniff of her own pert little bottom as recompense....
Dear god. What's wrong with people and stinky children. Take them outside and HOSE THEM DOWN!
ian - yuck! i think i will adopt... 2 swedish girls, possibly twins... 18 year olds...
kyk - exactly! Fitting as i do most of the cooking!
df - good advice, as always
nm - i get a sniff every now and then if i am a good boy
docle - at -7 there could be some issues
Hmmmm - I wonder if you will survive 'potty training'. I see Mrs BB is going to have lots of fun with you.
Wow, that's disturbing. Sadly, I'm sure somewhere there's a person that would pay good money for that opportunity.
caroline - don't know, haven't been potty trained yet but look forward to it
uk - even more distrubing...
gosh I feel sorry for you. It's once thing spending time with one's own children but other people's?
j - totally! thank the gods mrs. bb loves and is patient with children, especially her god daughter
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