Who needs Breakfast at Tiffany’s when you can have Breakfast with Boys? Haha, who I am kidding, I’ll take Breakfast at Tiffany’s any day!
In Breakfast at Tiffany’s the gorgeous Holly Golightly, (aka Audrey Hepburn,) starts her day by wandering around the streets of New York. Holly is the epitome of poise and grace; Her hair is swept up in a neat chignon and she is wearing a simple, yet lovely, couture dress and a beautiful string of pearls. She stops in front of the iconic Tiffany’s Jewellery Store and daintily nibbles on a delectable Croissant while looking lovingly at the sparkling treasures that are held within. Couture outfit, delicious French pastry, sparkling diamonds; Sounds like heaven to me. Sadly, my breakfast experience is as far removed from this scene as one can possible get. Take today for instance…
It’s Saturday, I was looking forward to a nice sleep in; My boys, aged 10 and 8 respectively had other ideas. I was awoken to the sound of them fighting and wrestling in the kitchen over a fidget spinner of all things. Apparently the 8 year old had the audacity to touch the 10 year old’s most prized possession, and so a fight began. Regretfully the yelling, banging and crashing elevated to a level where it became impossible to ignore, so I relented and got up.
Fidget Spinner crisis over, we move onto the actual event of breakfast. My husband had gone to the effort to make Bacon and Egg Burgers, which was a treat and they were delicious; (although it was no Almond Croissant!). I had taken a rather large mouthful of breakfast when Master 8 pipes up with this piece of infinite wisdom… ‘There is nothing worse than a Brown Fart Cloud.’ At this I literally gag and almost choke on my burger. Those who know me well know that I am not overly good with the concept of ‘Poo Particles,’ never have been, although it seems to be getting worse the more I age. Poo talk at any time of the day, let alone breakfast, is something I just can’t handle. But on this thought I am of course outnumbered, 3 to 1. It seems I am all alone in my belief that this is an inappropriate breakfast conversation.
‘Wouldn’t it be great if there was a farting competition where you could win a gold medal for the loudest fart?’ Offers Master 10. My husband’s response to this, is not to shut it down, not to remind the boys that such things shouldn’t be discussed while we were eating, or that they should try and act more like gentlemen. No, my husband did not say any of these things, instead his response was, ‘Yes but you would be disqualified if you did a Shart.’ (NB – if by some freak of nature you have not come across the term ‘shart’ I urge you to Google it, as I am far too much of a lady to elaborate any further here.) At this declaration all 3 of them are roaring with laughter. I shake my head and wonder how my life came to this? How did a Princess who loves shopping, ballet and all things pink end up here, the victim of fart talk at breakfast?
It’s ok, you can laugh, I know you want to. I know I probably would I if heard the story. But unfortunately for me, this isn’t a story, this actually is MY life!
At this thought I give up and begin to laugh too, the situation is far too gross and absurd not to. Plus, as the old saying goes, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them.’ As for actually joining them? Never! I plan on clinging to my girlie ways as ferociously as ever. You will never catch me talking about Brown Fart Clouds or Sharts over a family meal! But in the spirit of not giving myself an aneurism, the best I can do is to laugh along with them and make a mental note to somehow work this scene into one of my books. (That’s right be careful what you do or say in front of a writer, as you may very well become the latest character in one of their stories!)
So, with this all said and done, Breakfast at Tiffany’s might be more civilised, but Breakfast with Boys is far more entertaining. Gross and as uncouth as it is, I probably should be thanking them for all the great material!
About the author
So, who is the Princess in Steelcap Boots? That’s me; shopaholic, chatterbox, book lover and collector of pink things. I am the girliest of girls, who happens to live in a house full of boys – my husband, my two sons, even our dog is a boy! Life in my household is hectic, loud, messy and most of all smelly! When I’m not immersing myself in reading or writing, I can usually be found wielding an electric drill and donning a high-vis vest and a pair of steelcap boots, whilst at work in my husband’s business. (For evidence click here)…