Amanda is my husband she's in the process of deciding if she wants to be all woman. All I have to say about that is yes dear.
Banana Bug is my thirteen year old, stroppy, deep, existential and incredibly talented arty-farty teen. She doesn't like men -- well not in that way -- so any off the cuff advice from her love life will be all girl. OK what love life? She's deeply embarrassed I even mentioned it.
Gasbag is a nine-year-old pessimist who thinks deeply about how the world is rubbish. He resembles a catalogue model and thinks sleep is for wimps. Another arty-farty (but his smell worse) type, he tends to only draw Five Nights at Freddies characters and Sonic the Hedgehog. He's also a talented young poet. And last week I even managed to get him to draw a credible twite (that's a type of bird and not anything rude.)
To me my youngest is Sausage but he requested I call him Ironman. He's a funny little diva that can rock outfits that include both Sonic the Hedgehog and My Little Pony. Always performing, unlike the other two he has a sharp devious mind. If you tell him not to go over the line he'll bounce right on it.
Sat here at my desk, I try to work out how to introduce the Kimlins to the world. We have a profound message don't we? Surely under the superficiality of family life I can excavate profundity. So I asked the family:
Me: What do you have to say about life? What would you like to tell the world?
Amanda: Huh? (she has her headphones on and is playing Mech Warrior. I don't know if they're playing with him or her but I'm definitely looking at the one with chicken fillets and more make-up than I've worn in thirty years)
Banana Bug: Not much
Me: I give up on life.
At least until the next blog entry.
The Kimlin Family