Olympics and Potatoes

30 July 2012

Do you remember back to last month, and the start of the Olympics? It was only 27 July! I remember it. I remember the Opening Ceremony and cringeing and laughing and gasping in enjoyment, all in equal measure.

The excitement of the torch-lighting was all too much for them

We let the minxes stay up late especially to watch it. I even put down my knitting. The girls tried hard to savour being treated like adults, but at the end of the day, they’re only 6, 4 and 2… They managed 20 minutes of the country-teams parading then crashed out where they were. Poor souls – they missed those excellently comical black stick-on moustaches from the Ukrainians (?), the Czech wellies and umbrellas, but did see me gasp and snigger in shock at the man in front of Camilla and Boris excitedly give the German team a Nazi salute or 3. I’m glad they didn’t ask me to explain.

We didn’t catch as many Olympian events as I’d planned or hoped – we were too busy grabbing the chance and fleeting motivation to go camping a few times. But I did hear Maxi Minx mutter all too often: “It’s not the winning that’s important; it’s the taking part and having fun!” Being a total cynic and wary that 12 years of schooling may drive every ambitious fibre out of her being, to her detriment as a functioning adult in this competitive old world we live in, I’ve been teaching her a new catechism of my own: “Taking part is just the start; it’s the utter decimation of the competition that’s important”. Her headmaster is going to just love me…

Talking of Maxi, she’s as potty about lovehearts and the colour pink, as Midi is about owls and the colour black. So it was very fitting that she found this wee baby Highland Burgundy potato in a little square of ground that I thought had been

Spectacles made from clover and poppy petals. 100% scary

cleared of crops. It made her whole day! And mine: the other 2 girls were being particularly trying, whilst Maxi was making a valiant effort to stop whingeing and do generally helpful stuff. I’d been trying to think of some kind of wee treat or reward for her to show how much I appreciated her help. As an encore, though, she had to go and spoil it all by making the very scariest of her art creations. Ever. Ever-ever:

Lastly, this photo just says ‘summer’ to me as a mummy to little girls: grazed little milky-white knees that you could just eat all up, sun-hat, soft canvas baby shoes, the yogurt pot boat / bucket / weapon, and the ever-present bottle of bubbles. Ach, they’re little for too short a fleeting time!

One thought on “Olympics and Potatoes

  1. Pingback: Greengrocers « (Reasons Why I'm a) Grumpy Old Trout

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