The June/July issue of Little Treasures is out now. I’ve got a column in there about the upsides of pregnancy, and a Serious Article on helping kids stay healthy during winter (featuring insights from the wonderful Dr Nicola Mohan).
For nearly five years I’ve been secretly performing an elaborate regular ritual of making sure the stunt-double Snuggly looks the same as the Snuggly about to be put in the washing machine. My heart beats a little faster on swap-over day, ready to field suspicious questions: “Mum, does Snuggly seem a little…pointier nosed than usual? Does the bit of his hat I chewed off look…different to you?” Etc. Today during the Snuggly swap over I got rumbled by the cat. Now I feel like I’m the mother in a “Switched At Birth” made-for-TV-movie where a plucky young journalist knows he’s uncovered a Hidden Secret and is about to break his first Big Story then get hired by the NY Times. I’m going to have to buy Frankie’s silence with grated cheese and tuna brine (dolphin friendly).
I know I’m supposed to correct pronunciation and mis-hears, but sometimes getting it wrong works in my favor. My top-40 music junkies have been meaningfully belting out “snuck out a little wee on the couch in the bathroom”, and asking questions about why someone would have a couch in their bathroom, and why someone else would wee on a couch in the bathroom when the toilet must be, like, RIGHT THERE. I’ll leave explaining that the actual lyric is “smoke a little weed on the couch in the back room” for another day.
I really appreciate how she drew the glass full. And appreciate she drew this at home, not at school.
This was pretty much how I imagined motherhood would be. I won’t clue Tilly in on the full story just yet.
“But I wanted a bomblet egg, not a bloiled egg!” Sorry for the mixup madam, I’ll remove the offending boiled egg from your bill, and will make an omelette next time.
Tilly: “I hid the hairbrush so you can’t brush my hair. Absoluuuutely don’t look under THAT cushion”. Amy: “I made you something at school for Mothers’ Day. But I’m not supposed to give it to you until Sunday, and I won’t tell you what it is, even if you ask me, cos it’s a surprise. OK IT’S FUDGE! I MADE YOU FUDGE! THERE’S ALSO A CARD!” My daughters need to work on their deception skills if they ever plan on sneaking out when they’re teenagers.
Kidney beans look a bit like Jellybeans, but don’t even remotely taste like Jellybeans. Now the world is a sad and terrible place.
Olé! Proost! Cheers, bro. It’s a multicultural dress-up evening
Long car trip home. The girls pleaded and pleaded we “put on some music by Dora The Explorer!” We don’t have any music by Dora The Explorer. And even if we did, I don’t think playing it would be good for the long term stability of our family. So we put on The Gipsy Kings and told them it’s music by Dora’s Dad.