Don’t drink the ketchup, darling

Two toddlers, one exceedingly pregnant woman and one hour in McDonald’s sounds a lot like this. 

Right, can we hold hands while we’re in the queue? Good. Really well done. Stay as still as you can.

Henry, Hollie doesn’t want to give you a piggy-back. Off, please. OFF.

No, that little girl doesn’t want to, either. Let her eat her lunch.

Have you dropped a chippy? No? Oh, the tub of ketchup. Yes, well avoided. Stay exactly like that while I get a napkin.

Don’t drink the ketchup, darling.

No, that’s not Daddy. That’s a lady.

Leave that boy’s neck alone, please.

What’s that? A poo? Don’t worry, you’ve got a nappy on. Alright, yes, don’t tell everyone.

Hen, any more fish fingers for you? No? Right, I’m putting them away.

What? You said you didn’t want any more fish fingers. They’re in the bin. Don’t go looking.

Pitchy? Pitchy? Oh, chippy. Yes, there are a few on the floor. NO NO NO don’t eat it…urgh.

No wait, no, could you hug me later? oh — now I have nacho cheese boob.

Photo 15-05-2013 01 05 35 PM

Worth it. Totally worth it. 

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3 thoughts on “Don’t drink the ketchup, darling

Talk to me! I'll put the kettle on.

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