What goes around comes around

One of my mum's favourite stories from my childhood involves me standing with her in the queue for a supermarket check-out and asking at the top of my voice "Mummy! Why does that old lady have a beaaaard?!?"

Clearly I've not changed that much over the years, and the Board of Directors that govern my brain to mouth synapses are pretty much on permanent sabbatical, all of which is helpful now that karma has come back to bite me in the arse.

F has taken to stopping in the middle of the pavement and yelling "Mummy! I've got an itchy bottom!!" all the while having a very public excavate. 

Not to be outdone, D's favourite party trick is now to thrust his finger up his nose up to the second knuckle, take it out again, clap a lot (just in case someone wasn't looking), laugh loudly (ditto), and repeat the procedure all over again.

I may (re)turn to drink.