The Reason why parents don’t tell kids everything.

Josh woke up sulking badly from “armpit itchy”, promptly sauntered to me – who was in the most unglamorous, yet necessary, activity of breastpumping – and demanded for powder.

Suddenly his eyes beamed.

“Pump milk?” he asked.
“Yes, mommy’s pumping.”
“Shua-shua drink? Milk?” And just in case I was too thick to understand, he showed me the hand signs for “drink” and “milk”.
“Erm… This is for tomorrow morning when you wake up.”
“Mommy… pleaseeeeee?”

Sigh. And what could I say. The milk’s for drinking anyway.

So together we went to the bathroom, coated both his armpits (for equality’s sake) with glorious Snake Brand prickly heat powder, as well as onto his neck. Then off he went with 200ml of my fresh produce to guzzle on.

And here I am left pondering. About why I taught him about all these things in our daily lives, like lip balm, powder, body creams, breastpumps, mommy’s milk and the powerful six-letter word: PLEASE. So that he could bug me for them at an ungodly 2.30am?! Sheesh.

I swear children are secretly such highly developed little beings that once they pick up something new, you should never expect them to behave the same way again.

Now I am even more determined to never let him discover that we have a Wii in the house. Well, maybe I will. When he’s 10 or something, and the Wii has gone out of fashion. 😆

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