Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Speaking in tongues

Mummy and I were in the supermarket yesterday, checking off the list of things that we needed to stock our cupboards.

"We need petit pois next", Mummy said.

I looked at her, puzzled: "Why are you speaking French, Mummy?" I asked.

"What should I have said?"

"Peas, Mummy".

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

The magic ingredient

It's that time of year again. The time when, with Christmas still ridiculously far into the future, good housewives suddenly get the urge to start baking the Christmas Cake. So Mummy and I, good housewives that we are, set off for the supermarket.

Into the trolley went the usual currants, cherries, candied peel, along with the flour and eggs and all the other things that I usually add to the mixture by the bag-full.

But I was sure there was something missing. I scanned the shelves, but couldn't see it.

"Mummy, don't we need Christmas for the Christmas cake?"

Monday, November 12, 2007

Bath Time

A regular part of my evening routine is a bath. I like baths. I can teach Dora and Boots how to swim. I can squirt daddy with my Sea horse water pistol. I can scribble a masterpiece on the side of the bath with my bath crayons. But what I can't do is avoid having my hair washed.

"Don't I have to have my hair washed tonight?", I ask hopefully, every night without fail. Six nights out of seven I get the hoped for reply. But on that other night, often, mysteriously, after I have been swimming, Mummy directs a glance at Daddy and says "I'm afraid you do".

Then it begins. Hair drenched; shampoo lathered in; then soap washed out of my hair and into my eyes. I've tried watching my dollies as I wash their hair, to see how they can remain stoical in the face of the ordeal. They manage it even with their eyes open. I don't see how it can be done.

And so from the moment Mummy begins, to the moment Daddy wraps my head in the towel I keep up a constant chorus of "Is it finished yet? Is it finished yet? Is it finished yet?"

And it seems to be working. Hair washing has become noticeably quicker now that I've learnt that the way to Mummy's heart-strings is through her ears.

Saturday, November 10, 2007