pensnest | Corrupting the, um... (Reply)

I am a Bad Mother. Last night, Bun demanded that I feed her more sparkly stories. Hmm. But, to be fair, the marathon Queer as Folk watching session was All Her Fault. Mostly.

I feel sure there is much to be said for the argument that character is inherited. When I was a teenager at boarding school I developed a smutty sense of humour very quickly, despite my (assumes halo) essential innocence. Nowadays I can sit watching Buffy and Angel episodes and crack up at the same time as my daughter. Or that scene in Fellowship of the Ring where Merry falls down and breaks his carrot: this incapacitates us both, as we have shared the joy of the Very Secret Diaries. The menfolk in the Nest raise bemused eyebrows.

It is unfortunate that, while I plainly gifted the Bun with an evil sense of humour and the ability to procrastinate, I failed to pass on even a vestige of desire to write stories. Pout. I am surrounded by science geeks. When she goes off to university (fingers crossed) in the autumn I shall be bereft.

Meanwhile, I have directed her to read