It’s Australia Day today.
Something to do with the day this country was ‘found’? Or settled upon? I can’t remember anymore. I’m just struggling to remember day-to-day tasks at the moment.
Because, kid-fried brain.
But seriously. Today is a special day for all Aussies. It’s a public holiday where everyone can take the day off work, have fun, bbq, drink copious amounts of alcohol and listen to good tunes.
Everyone, except for the parents.
Public holidays, including Australia Day, mean shit to us now. Gone are the days of carefree drinking. Of not looking up every three seconds to see what trouble our kids are getting into. Interrupted free conversation with friends is a just a fading memory. Eating our lunch, slooooowwwwwlly, while NOT screaming at the children to stop putting peas up their nose, is completely in the past. Listening to any melody besides repetitive jingles from The Wiggles soundtrack, is never going to happen again.
We can still celebrate I suppose, but our job will still go on. It’s forever I tell you. FOR-BLOODY-EVER!!! (that’s Aussie slang for “I’m not so sure I can parent anymore”).
Australian, or ‘Strayan, parents are exactly the same as every other parent around the world. We work hard. Wipe bums. Cook food our kids hate. Give the child the ‘wrong’ coloured plate, so the shit hits the fan. Clean up toys 178 times a day. Step on Lego’s, only to destroy another nerve in our foot. Argue with our kids about stupid shit. And collapse into bed at 8:30pm wondering if it will get easier tomorrow (we all hold onto that hope).
The only difference in Australia, is that we
scream talk differently to our kids.
It’s all slang, you see. We might be hard workers with our parenting, but we are bat shit lazy with our communication of the English language. Everything is abbreviated, made up, or grunted in a way only Aussies can understand. Australians like to chew, spit and burp out our words.
All class, I tell you.
Below, are some examples on how Aussie parents speak to their kids.
NOTE: Please image loud Australian parent with a twangy accent, talking to their kid(s). It makes my job a lot easier.
On what would they like to eat?:
“What kind of tucker do ya want?”
“Do ya want a cheerio or a bikkie? Or you can have a chook sanger. Or maybe some Maccas? Actually, there is some leftover spag bol. You can have that. Righto?”
Explaining to your child to behave whilst grocery shopping:
“We are going to Woollies to get some snags for the barbie, so you better not give me any cheek or chuck a spaz or spit the dummy or play silly buggers while we are there because I reckon I’m gonna get aggro. Righto?”
On saying ‘Yes’:
On saying ‘No’:
“No bloody way.”
“Go ask your mother.”
On getting the kid to close the door in case the wildlife enters the house:
“Close the bloody fly wire, or the bloody blowies or the stupid mozzies or the noisy cockies or the flamin’ redbacks or the nasty crocs or the wanker roos or the arsehole dingos or the stinkin’ chooks will get in! RIGHTO??!!”
On pointing out something fairly exciting for child to look at while you are driving:
“Check out the ambos!”
“Look. There’s the postie!”
“Shit! Here come the coppers!”
“Quick! Get the bin out! Here are the garbos!”
Encouraging your child that they can be whatever they want when they grow up:
“Bloody oath you can do anything you want! You could be a chippie, or a sparky, or a brickie, or a poo man, or a cabbie, or a cockie, or a gyno, or a journo.”
“Just don’t be a dero. Or a wineo. Or get blotto. Or drink metho. Or go troppo. Or turn into a veggo. Or a weirdo. And worst of all, don’t be a yobbo. Righto?”
You will notice that Australians like to change words and end them with an ‘o’. This happens especially with names of people. Your kid could be named Steve, but we wouldn’t call him that. We would call him Stevo. Jon would be Jonno. Robert would be Robbo. It all sounds so much friendlier with an ‘o’ on the end.
Asking child to go to sleep:
“Just take a kip.”
“Get some shut eye.”
“Hit the sack.”
“Just crash already!!”
“Go to BLOODY SLEEP!!”
On explaining their beloved pet just passed away:
“Sorry kiddo, Bluey, the larrikin mongrel drank some metho and karked it. He was a good mutt. A real mate. You right cobber? Here, have an ANZAC bikkie. Good-o? Righto.”
So as you can see, us ‘Strayans talk like weirdos. Even to our kids. But it all makes sense to us. Sort of. I think we just make most of it up as we go along.
p.s. This was hard work researching this subject! Do we really talk like this? It’s a wonder any other country understands what we are saying.
Linking up with Essentially Jess for #IBOT