The Crocosh*t

It was freezing outside. The family decided that we would have a pyjama day. I grumbled at this a bit because I am a male and don't really do pyjamas.

Still, after a night on the sauce it's nice not to have to race about half the country in the car going to various garden or shopping centres. So I graciously agreed to the plan.

The day was a relaxed one. I lolled about on the couch attempting the number of cups of coffee drunk in an afternoon record. The little lady played a million imaginative games on the floor.

The good lady... Well, her idea of relaxing is to clean things in a frenzied manner so she was running about with a spray gun of noxious chemicals and a cloth. It's funny how ecologically aware she is until it comes to cleaning the bathroom. Then it's bleach all the way.

The little lady tired of her current game and moved onto playing with modelling clay.

I supped at yet another coffee and browsed a nice combo of steemit and crypto prices on my phone.

Daddy?

Yes my sweet?

I said to the little lady who had shouted.

All the baby horses are running away!!

She motioned to a gaggle of toy horses which did indeed appear to be running away from something. A dinosaur no doubt I thought, smiling.

And what would they be running from little lass?

I said with good humour as I supped my coffee. Bet it's the T-Rex, I thought, he loves eating the horses.

They're running from the CROCOSHIT!!!

I narrowly avoided spraying my coffee over the entire room.

The croco-what??

The crocoshit! Look!

She waved a plastic crocodile at me. It was brown. Oh no, please tell me she is just playing with words. I mean, she's almost five and all that but I don't want her swearing.

It will be fine, she won't actually mean shit I reassured myself.

Why do you call him that my little potato pie?

Because he's brown silly!

But why that particular word little pop, surely he's just a crocodile?

She looked at me at that moment with what seemed like very old and very knowing eyes.

Becauuse Daddy, he looks like a poo.

Ah, bugger. She did mean shit. I picked her up and sat her on my knee and did my best to explain, in a slightly long and rambling way that didn't emphasise the word shit that it was a word that we didn't use. She seemed oddly content with my explanation.

Just then the good lady bustled in through the door and saw me on the couch with the little lady on my knee.

Aw look at you guys having a moment. You look so sweet! What are yous chatting about?

The little lady looked up and grinned like the Cheshire cat.

Mummy, Daddy was just telling me all about the word shit!!

The good lady's eyes bulged slightly.

We don't use that word ok.

Ok mummy!

She bounded off my knee and ran out into the hall singing. The good lady glared at me with an eyebrow that was so arched cars could have driven under it.

It was the crocoshit??

I croaked.

Might be sleeping in the garage tonight.