It’s been a long and tiring 2 weeks since I last wrote a 15; I have been living out of a case in hotels for a large chunk of the fortnight travelling all of the UK with work. It’s been tough – I hate being away from the family for such large periods of time and, more importantly, it reduces the amount of humorous anecdotes I have for the 15s. Let’s face it, not much funny stuff happens when you’re sat alone in a hotel room, eating room service, watching movies on your iPad, getting wound up by the shitty hotel WiFi and its inability to stream iPlayer or SkyGo without buffering every 5 mins.
Still, in the small windows of family time I have captured over the last 2 weeks Little Ms Six has taken every opportunity to squeeze some chuckle-some little antics in.
Picture the scene – the current Mrs Six is puttering around somewhere (I always know where she is in the house by the elephant footed thumping, dyspraxic crashes & bangs, followed by cursing) and I was sat in the living room cradling Mini Mr Six in my arms and Little Miss Six next to me playing with some cartoon figurines. The television was playing to itself in the background when one of Little Miss Six’s favourite shows came on.
The theme song to this particular show is very popular with Little Miss Six; it’s a simple yet nightmarishly catchy little number that has the knack of infiltrating your subconscious and leaking out into your day-to-day life as whistles and hums as you go about your business. I’m pretty sure it crept into a dream one time and I woke with a start in the night with it rattling around my head. One of the worst things I ever did was to download the soundtrack to this particular show and put it on the mp3 player in the SixMobile – she coolly told me the other day as we got in the car, in a voice that held a subtle undertone of cold-blooded threat (think Kevin Spacey in Seven, or Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs); “Daddy, when I am in the car we play my music, only when you are on your own you can play yours.”
Anyway; I was in the house with the kids and, being the 1001st time I had heard this particular song, I started to sing along, as did Little Miss Six. My singing was almost immediately interrupted by a loud and aggressive;
The following conversation then took place;
Me: “no what?”
Little Ms Six: “no singing Daddy”
Me: “but it’s fun to sing together”
Little ms Six: “yes Daddy, but it’s not fun for Mini Mr Six!”
The cheek. This was a particularly concerning exclamation by Little Ms Six and made me consider the potential to get her hearing tested as clearly she was unable to identify the angelic quality of my harmonious voice. It was also clear that the crying that commenced from Mini Mr Six at the same time was in no way his own review, and was probably because he was hungry… or something like that.
See you on the other side…