Why We Can Only Say ‘Suspicious’ if We Have Mini Milks

So, the Wolf, Tiny Tyger, Baby Bear and I are currently living with my parents (and my sisters) until we can sell our house several hundred miles away from the Wolf’s new job and buy one considerably closer.

My mum is an amateur photographer.  I think she’s pretty good but I also don’t know anything much about photography so maybe she’s terrible.  I think she’s good.  So, she got a new camera and had looked into all photographyish stuff (like framing, shutter speed, aperture, lens something – yeah, I don’t know) and wanted to just get on and take a bunch of photos.  However, she found she didn’t really know what to take photos of (I don’t care if I have a degree in English Literature – oh, by the way, I have a degree in English Literature – I don’t agree with the stupid ‘don’t end a sentence with a preposition rule).  So, she joined a couple of scavenger hunt groups online where you’re given a load of words/phrases etc. every month and have to take a photo for each one before the end of the month.

Anyway, she’s been doing these for a couple of years now, I think, and one of the words she was struggling to get a photo for last months was ‘suspicious’.  She’d hunted around in my 13 year old sister’s bedroom (with my sister there – she’s not that sort of mum).  I assumed she was looking for porn magazines or weed paraphernalia but it turns out my sister used to sometimes stash empty crisp packets away and that’s what she was hoping for.  No luck.

So, she was thinking out loud and, turning to Tyger, said something like, ‘I don’t know what to do for suspicious.  Do you?  Do you have suspicious?’

To which Tyger replied, ‘Okay.’  (He’s never said ‘yes’; he says ‘okay’ instead.  I don’t know why.)

Mum: ‘Okay?  You have suspicious?’

Tyger: ‘Okay, Tygy spicious.  Okay.’  (He calls himself by a cute name I won’t give here since I’m keeping this blog real-name-free so ‘Tygy’ will have to do instead – it’s gets the gist across.)

Mum: ‘Okay?’

Tyger (in a progressively higher pitched and more desperate sounding voice):  ‘Okay, Meemaw.  Spicious.  Tygy spicious.  Okay, spicious.  Meemaw, Tygy spicious.’  (My mum didn’t want to be ‘Grandma’ or ‘Granny’ or ‘Nanny/Nana’ so she’s ‘Meemaw’ and yes I got that from The Big Bang Theory.)

So, it became apparent Tyger thought a ‘spicious’ was a thing Mum was offering him and he really wanted one.

We were in stitches at this and I tried to think of something he didn’t know the name of to give him as a ‘spicious’.  I thought of the Mini Milks in the freezer and gave him one of those.  Problem solved.  The end.

Except…

A couple of days later Baby Bear was in his activity station playing away with the big beads on a ‘wire’ (plastic wire – I’m not totally irresponsible) and the ‘keyboard’ and all the other colourful bits and pieces on the activity station to keep babies quiet and occupied so parents can have a hot cup of tea (that’s what I assume they’re for, anyway) and I caught a whiff of something.  Then I made a big mistake.

‘I think I smell something suspicious.  I need to check your nappy,’ I said to Baby Bear like the idiot I am.

Tyger – overhearing this: ‘Spicious?  Spicious!  Tygy, spicious.’

And then he threw himself on the floor crying.  So, I gave him another Mini Milk.

And that’s why nobody can say ‘suspicious’ around Tyger unless we have Mini Milks.

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