Ode To My Son’s Verruca


When you pee on a stick and the word pregnant pops up, you have this wonderful image of family strolls in the park, tiny baby cuddles, the smell of newborns, first words, belly laughs, baby birthday parties, trips to the cinema…You never bank on the downright GRIM side of parenting.

This week, we have entered the gruesome parent club with not one but TWO verruca’s; yep, my son is content with just one of the blighters, we have two of the little b*stards to contend with. Bedtime routines of putting PJs on, reading books snuggled up in bed whilst they drift off have been replaced by filing down black warts that are hanging off his foot. And as it turns out? SEven year olds don’t like you prodding their manky feet.

My son is forever playing football thus having super sweaty stinking feet meaning that it is an absolute field day for Victor and Valerie who have taken up residency on my poor kids feet. (Giving them names make them seem just that tiny bit less stomach churning revolting) So without further adieu:

Victor and Valerie – thanks for chosing my son to set up camp on, he does have a lot of friends at school so the fact you’ve chosen him makes me oh so pleased. You see, I don’t mean to be nasty by zapping you every night and trying to rub your black dotty faces off, believe me, it’s for the best. But you don’t appear to be playing ball and getting the F away. Stocks of Bazooka are set to soar as I relentlessly try to rid Charlie of you but hey guys, it’s not you it’s us. I just can’t afford to keep you. Charlie loses everything so we are already on a second pair of swimming socks that he has to wear. Plus my stomach? It can’t deal with it anymore. I thought wobbly teeth were bad but holy moly,. you guys have made me realise childhood is pretty gross.

Why don’t you go quietly? We can pretend this never happened. You’ll always be the first of the gross things to happen to Charlie. You’ve made your mark and will always hold a (black shaped) special place in our lives. Deal? Oh and on your way out, tell Nancy nits and Percy Pimples to stay the f*ck out of our lives FOREVER.

Thanks muchly,

Stressed Mother B x

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1 Comment

  1. 15th July 2016 / 2:58 pm

    Haha brilliant. Not that your son has verrucas but the fact that you’ve named them.
    These are the things you really don’t think about when you dream of becoming a parent, aren’t they.
    Oh what glamorous lives we lead x

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