Overheard while preparing Italian Balls (spinach and fetta arancini) ;
‘These balls are sticky’. (snigger, snigger, snigger).
‘My, those are big balls. It says your balls should be no bigger than golf ball size’.
‘Those are my balls! Don’t touch my balls!’ (Big twins enter into a Beavis and Butthead type chuckle)…
Heh
Heh Heh
Heh he heh
You said balls!
BALLS!
Hehe heh heh!
‘Wow! These balls have nuts in them.’ (Father falls to the floor in gaffaw, disbelieving that his ‘innocen’t almost 12 year olds could be so… worldly).
‘Mum, are you going to deep fry everyone’s balls?’ *giggle, snigger, snort*
‘Is that enough balls’?
‘You can never have enough balls’!
‘What is the difference between Italian balls and normal balls’?
‘Italian balls are spicy’.
I was talking about FOOD people, get your minds out of the gutter.
Food, I tell you.
**************************************
Ivy’s bottom blistered up over the weekend and on the Sunday we phoned the paed. He started to discuss logistics until we started asking questions.
Why did we need to do this again?
Would it definitely give us a diagnosis and would we be able to move forward after this?
When he couldn’t answer, David said that we did not want to go ahead with the biopsy and that we wanted another opinion with an immunologist.
We said we didn’t want to put her through more pain.
It was wrong.
Just to do it, so they could experiment on her body.
He reluctantly agreed.
Once upon a time there were two parents of many children, who finally grew a pair!
To be continued…
