Dinner table conversation. 

We’re all pretty tired and the cubs are both showing signs of fatigue; short tempers, edge of tears, you know the routine.

The youngest takes delight in leaning from his high chair and pointing at the gap in the eldest’s front teeth. Repeatedly stating, in his speak, that she has teeth missing.

She leans towards him, takes a deep breath and blows vigorously into his face.

For my son, this is kryptonite. 

He recoils and bursts into floods of tears, repeatedly saying no.

I tell her to stop, reminding her that at some point the tables will turn. He will be bigger and stronger than she can imagine.

Her response made me chuckle..

Does that mean that until then I can do him harm?

No my darling; no it does not.

Sunday cont.

Now concurrently I’m ruining another recipe for savory cupcakes, and new potatoes in their skins. Add sausages and whilst this isn’t my usual roast, It’s a healthy and interesting meal. Everything done (she’s still not coming down (Sunday) and in the oven. How important can bicarbonate of soda be?

And they’re back!

The cubs are here and I couldn’t be happier.

Youngest has actually been with me for most of the day because he’s been under the weather a little. He’s got a history of being poorly, so we don’t take any chances with his health.

Luckily the rash is an extreme histamine reaction rather than anything more sinister so cetirizine should see him right.

It’s amazing how quickly the chorus of:

“Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.  Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.  Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.  Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.  Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.  Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad.  Dad? dad! daddy? dad. Dad? dad! daddy? dad”

can get to you. I’m only in the kitchen making dinner…

The above involves some poetic licence; I do answer occasionally but then the process starts again.

LML