At this stage, I am not sure which is more entertaining, the post school car chats or the newly energised dinner chats.

DS1 was speaking about a boy named K.

‘That sounds like an Irish name’ I suggested.

‘He’s not Irish, Mummy’ came the very swift response.

‘How do you know?’ I asked abruptly, almost offended that my sleuthing ability would be questioned.

With his face contorted into an expression that screamed he meant business, DS1 spat ‘He’s mean and he’s dumb’!

I began to giggle uncontrollably.  I knew I shouldn’t.  Even DD seemed to know that was the incorrect reaction from a Mummy and stared at me with a questioning look!  But, I couldn’t help it.

‘Why do you say that?’ I asked, trying to regain some form of parental gravitas.

‘Well, when we were in class, he kept kicking H under the table, and he only got 2 out of 12 on his spelling’ fired back DS1.

Case closed!