Bono and the Riddle

Remember those ghastly riddles from high school maths? U2 is at the side of a river, Bono can’t travel with the Edge, the canoe can only hold 3 people at once, there are no oars and only a piece of rope. Get U2 across the river. I hated those and never managed to get Bono across without him being eaten by crocodiles.

As a mother of three children I am now faced with similar riddles on a daily basis.

One car.

Three children.

One party at A.

Two swim-a-thons.

What to do?

Small boy aged 9 has taken charge of his social life and subsequently demanded a lift to his BFF. I told him to take his bicycle and go. I didn’t expect him to do it. Wonders of wonders, he arrived at his destination unharmed, but much to the disapproval of the BFF’s parents. 

It’s not like I made him ride across town. Their house is one block away. Independence cannot come too soon.

The birthday party took place at Pennetones at the Zoo Lake Sports Club. I surmise that James Small sold it to the new owners, so it no longer has the celeb factor going for it. It is an excellent party venue and family friendly spot for a number of reasons.  The food is good. The children can either run amok on the playing fields or indulge in latent ape-like behaviour on the jungle gyms. There is also a bar downstairs where parents can escape for some Dutch courage and a peek at the rugby score.

I found Small girl aged 5 in the downstairs bar negotiating with the barman for his stash of beer bottle tops from which she plans to create a new line of jewellery. 

A short while later on another foray to track her down I ended up in the ladies where her gang had discovered the automatic soap dispenser.

Once accepted into the inner circle I was made privy to the matchmaking plans of five small females. 

Girl A is going to marry Boy B. Girl C is going marry Boy D. Boy’s B and D are unaware that their destiny has been set and quite to the small girl’s consternation do not seem keen to accept their fate. This is where the rest of the gang come in. It is their job to round up these errant males and if necessary force them to exchange vows. If only it were that easy.

My kindergarten boyfriend was a little chap named Justin who hated vegetables with passion only matched by my offspring. His job as my boyfriend was to pull me around on the go-carts at break time. That was the full extent of our relationship and it worked well for both of us. Also, I’d eat his veggies and sneak him my ice-cream. Ah, simpler days.

Here’s a riddle for you...

What starts with M and picks up thing?

Clue: It is NOT a magnet.

Answer: Mommy.