Little did I realise when I named my first born, ten years ago, that his name when wailed loudly by a four year old would sound so much like "mammy". The number of times I've gone running to be met by an exasperated tweenie sighing with despair "Not YOU, mammy" Still, I guess I get my workouts in most days with all the cardio stairs I do.
Then there is the time when you thought you were doing your children a favour by not dumbing down language into "ickle wickle and cutsie wootsie" and it backfires with your middle child coming out of school remonstrating how his new BFF isn't "ready to come over for a playdate yet because he needs to get a grip on himself, because today he has been a despicable git" (apparently he (the bff) got into trouble at school). I did have to inhale my tonsils at this fishwifery.
Or the time when you realise that speed reading the bedtime story probably isn't the best way forward to encourage your child to learn the words and Hairy McClary from Donaldson's Dairy is "most definitely" Hamey M'laney from Domalson Damey and nothing you can say or do will convince her otherwise.
And finally you realise that it isn't just you, when your nephew, who has had a slightly *emphasis on slightly* wheezy chest over the last couple of days, tells his teacher that "it's me heart, Miss" when his wicked mother sends him into school...
Oh well, when they grow up, they can blame it all on me when it goes full circle mwahahaha!