I picked up the girls from nursery a little early this afternoon so we could drive through the snow, ice and thick fog while it was still light. The 4 year old had solemnly told her teacher:”When I felt my forehead with my hand, like I do every morning, it was really quite hot”. Of course you do, darling: every morning.
The 2 year old is safely cuddled up in bed with her ‘epaulette’ (elephant) and ‘alietz’ (alien). ‘Pants’ has been ousted to the toybox. Pants is a big purple Barney dinosaur so-called because he looks like the dinosaurs in L’s favourite book, “Dinosaurs Love Underpants”. He was a gift last Christmas from her Nana P and Grandad. Within 10 seconds of unwrapping him, 2 things happened: L had dressed him in a pair of her sister’s purple stripey pants (well, L was still in nappies) and The Boss had sellotaped over the speaker to muffle the sickly “I Wuv You, You Wuv Me, We’re a Happee Fa-mil-eeeeee” song. He’s a softie – I removed the batteries.
Quick aside: P, the eldest, has always been a careful enunciator of her prodigious vocabulary. Except for one thing: hot cross buns. They were always ‘hot pum-mans’; now they are ‘hot pus buns’. Bleeeeee!
Baby R has learned how to spin on her belly, all the better to grab things with. She’s like a little tick: arms out, flailing around, until they come into contact with something. Then she’ll cling on like a… well, a tick!