It was Granny’s birthday last week. I planned her a delicious party picnic – and then left Mummy and Baby Brother in charge of packing it, whilst I kept Granny occupied (watching TV).
And Baby Brother was very keen to help.
“Do with these, Mummy?”, he asked as he got the salad vegetables out of the shopping bag.
“We need to wash those”, said Mummy, back turned, busy making sandwiches.
A few minutes later, sandwiches now neatly wrapped in foil, Mummy turned her attention to the salad. But she couldn’t find those vegetables anywhere.
“What did you do with the vegetables?”, she asked her little helper. For answer, he led her to the corner of the lounge, and pointed to his toy washing machine – wherein was a jumble of carrots, tomatoes and a cucumber.
“Washing them, Mummy”, he explained, clearly proud of his ingenuity.
The rest of the picnic came together without mishap, until:
“I think we’re going to have to squash this down”, said Mummy looking at the now brim-full cool-bag, with yet another box in her hand. She didn’t notice that Baby Brother had the Pork Pie in his hand, holding it out to her to be packed.
What she did notice, moments later, was Baby Brother jumping up and down – on top of the Pork Pie.
“What are you doing, baby?” she asked, hastily retrieving the pie from under his feet.
“Squashing it, Mummy”, replied her ever helpful son.
No comments:
Post a Comment