On being a kid, on being a boy and on growing up

A few days ago, I was doing something in the kitchen while the kid puddled around in the doorway to the hallway fiddling with his Dad's work bag and just hanging out. The next thing I could hear giggling down the hallway, so I stuck my head around the doorway to see what mischief was afoot and found that the kidlet had located his Dad's lunchbox, liberated a scone, and was happily feeding it to the dog who was very happily eating every last crumb.


I really don't know what people with kids who don't have dogs do. Last night, as I observed the dogs clean up the rice pudding that was dripping down the walls courtesy of the child (I'm so glad they're open to new and interesting ways of having their leftovers served), I realised how much more cleaning up would have to be done without them. Then again, I guess that'd be the trade off of not having to worry about extra exercise to wear off everything from marmite toast to smashed banana, corn crackers to weetbix.

The kid absolutely hates having his face and hands wiped after eating, and quickly discovered that it was much less tragic to let the dogs have a go first to get the worst of it off.

And we discovered that it was much less tragic cleaning up the high chair tray if WE let the dogs have a go first to get the worst of it off. The white bits all over Jess are either rice pudding or chicken. I can't remember. Either way, there are ways of dealing with that as well without much input from us.

Heh. An excellent reason to have TWO dogs.

The way a kid's feet should be. Of course, you can also imagine what his clothes look like, but that's why washing machines were invented.

He was all about pulling out his Dad's herbs (at least I think there were herbs in there. They might have been weeds. They weren't growing so well anyway, whatever they were), transferring dirt onto the back step, and then further transferring it into the dogs' water bucket.

I took this to try and capture the whopping egg on his head (above his right eye) from head butting the bookcase the night before last. He'd done 3 days without really sleeping and was so completely bollocksed all his co-ordination and strength to move about was pretty much gone. Hence the deep and meaningful with the bookshelf not long before bed time. Plus, he looks so cute with I have no idea what all over his face and his curly mop standing up everywhere.

Practising walking.