Does Your Child Have The X Factor?

Some people are destined for fame. Right from birth they just seem to have 'it', the 'thing', the 'X-Factor' or whatever one calls it.

Macaulay Culkin had it....so did Michael Jackson. Dakota Fanning and Miley Cyrus also had it, as did Drew Barrymore and Britney Spears. The fact that some of them seemed to lose it is neither here nor there, they still started out as child stars, found international fame and made their fortune before they had even hit puberty.

So how do you know if your child is the next Macaulay Culkin? Or the next Miley Cyrus?

All kids are beautiful and are capable of starting out modelling from a young age at the very least, but how do you know if your child has the talent and potential to be a gifted actor or an internationally-renowned pop star? Is it possible to know that your child has world-class potential when they are barely out of nappies?

Yes. Yes it is possible.

Because I already know that my three year old son is destined for Hollywood.

But how do I know?

I believe in my bones that my son was born to perform. He's a natural entertainer with a gift for extracting every human emotion in existence from those he meets just by going about his regular daily business. 

Ordinary activities that may seem mundane to most are performed by my son with skill and charisma, commanding the attention of audiences across the country. He can provoke laughter-  hysteria even, as well as tears, anger and shock without even seeming to try. 

Take for example the way he performs when he needs a wee-wee.

When most kids need a wee, they go for a wee. Simple. But not my boy. Oh no!!

When my (newly potty-trained) son decides that he wants to excrete urine into a ceramic bowl, he does the following:

1. His brain registers that a wee is due to arrive.

2. He'll ground to a halt

 3. He'll immediately pulls his shoes off and discard his socks by throwing them over the back of his shoulders.

4. He'll then whip his trousers and pants all the way down around his ankles and kick them off into a pile.

4. Then he'll search for an appropriate bowl in which to place his offering (mounting any stairs, escalators or lifts if required)

5. Once a bowl has been found, he'll contort himself into an awkward angle and put his head between his legs so that he can watch his waste trickle out.

6. He'll then leap off the toilet with his arms up high and punch the air like Rocky Balboa after winning a boxing match

 'I've done a WEE!!!' he'll cry repeatedly with escalating enthusiasm.

7. He'll then wait for an applause, soak up the adoration of his audience, collect his reward of one jelly baby, and then wait to be re-clothed.

I have witnessed a full room of total strangers in the Marks and Spencers bathroom applauding him with delight. The shoppers in aisle 3 of Lidl have also stopped in their tracks when exposed to his bare butt cheeks pounding down the aisle in search of a toilet. 

He has turned heads at Tesco's too. And HSBC. The playground....and the pub.

All of this attention, just for a wee.

So you can imagine that a poo commands a whole new level of attention from a crowd.

A poo for my son, is the opportunity to give his audience a performance they will never forget. 

Just last week, my son had the opportunity to show his talent to the people of Wales.  We took him stay at my parent's house whilst my husband and I had a romantic night away in a hotel (to sleep). 

This, I believe, was the start of his career going international.

My Mum decided to take him to soft play: nice, brave Nanny will tolerate anything to put a smile on his little face.

There she was sipping a cup of lukewarm, overpriced tea whilst breathing in the pungent fumes of chips, feet and toddler guffs, when a yellow flash appeared in the corner of her eyes.

'Nanny, Nanny, NANNY!'. The cries grew louder and shriller like a wailing ambulance.

'Look!! LOOOOKKKKK!!'.

Her head shot up to see my blonde-haired boy bouncing towards her, totally naked from the waist down. His hands were flapping wildly in the air:  his face bright red and sweaty

'Look! LOOK!!!!'.

He reached her feet and threw something down to the ground which landed just in front of her jewelled flip flops.

A poo.

A slimey, large poo.

'I did a POO!! A POO!!!!', he exclaimed with delight.

Jaws dropped wide open. Heads turned away in disgust. Young children burst into tears. Staff members tutted and reached for the disenfectant. Breast-feeding babies choked. Older kids laughed and pointed at my son's bits and bobs flapping around freely before their eyes.

And the poo just sat there, steaming and fresh, soaking into the green, heavily-worn carpet.

It was shocking. It was unthinkable.

Comical. Disgusting. Outrageous..... an unforgettable performance.

And Nanny? What did she do? What could she do??

Well, she applauded of course.... because we always make a fuss about a poo in our house. A poo is a BIG deal and warrants an applause and a reward of two sweets. One for a wee, two for a poo: it's the standard potty-training rule.

Nanny called me later that day to give me her critique on his performance for the Welsh crowd. Her thoughts:

Dramatic content: 8/10

Audience participation: 9 /10

Convincing delivery: 10/10

Emotional impact: 15/10

So, you see, if my son is capable of giving jaw-dropping performances at the tender age of three, then I just know that he has what it takes to make it in Hollywood.

He has the potential to draw a bigger crowd than the Hollywood Bowl with his Hollywood Bowels alone.

 The red carpet awaits my son.

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Mami 2 Five