I'm currently spending a couple of days with the #1Grandparents in Lancelin.
Read : Breaking up the boredom of school holidays while lightening #1Nana's booze supplies.
It's family bonding, Parental Parody style.
#1Pop has been regaling us all with tales of when I was growing up in the house.
Thankfully, he's left out the tales of my early pyromaniac efforts setting fire to my cubby house and the family car, and my first attempts at holding fire AKA smoking outside the local pub.
Speaking of the local pub.
One cracker of a tale dates back to when I was not more than a couple of months old.
So, just over 25 years ago. Ahem.
SHUT UP.
The local pub held a talent quest.
#1Pop assumed his position holding up the end of the bar with his mates.
There was one single contestant - a woman who stood on her hands for the duration of "It's a long way to Tipperary".
She received an encouraging round of applause and much cheering.
Wanting in on the action, #1Pop walked over and whacked yours truly on the table, offering up my freshly filled nappy as my special 'talent'.
Cue thunderous applause and cheering for the 4 tiny pellets of crap in my nappy.
So when I say "my shit don't stink..." and "I'm a talented performance artist experienced with entertaining large crowds" - I'm totally not shitting you.
With the right encouragement and stage parenting, I could've been the next Britney Spears.
It's no wonder I ended up over-sharing on the internet.
