Yes sir-ree! Betcha didn't know that.
DS erupted into a fit of hiccups the other morning and confinement nazi sprang off her feet and dashed towards the tissue box. She tore a little corner off, wet it, stuck it on DS's forehead and stepped back happily to admire her handiwork. So forget holding your breath or frightening yourself. Prrttth! That's just an old wife's tale. Really. Tissue paper is the way to go man. Got a cough? Stick a mop up your armpit. Works like a dream. Bad flatulence? Feather duster up the ... never mind.
Okay, this next one I can't explain. I think it's because confinement nazi and I are on different frequencies (in more ways than one, as you can already guess). She only speaks Hokkien and I only speak English. It's chicken and duck talk every time. Our conversations usually involve lots of pidgin Hokkien, tons of frantic hand gestures, many furrowed brows and the occasional rolling eyeball. Painful.
Anyway, today I discovered this hidden in her swaddler!
So what cures a fussy toddler? My money's on cauliflower in the underpants.
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