Sunday, 26 August 2007

"I'm drawing something for you, Daddy, and you have to guess. It begins with 'one'."

My four year-old son scribbles furiously on a magnetic sketch pad, then shows me his picture. It looks like a man, in preschool lollipop style, with oustretched arms and squiggly hair. Lots of lines radiate around the arms.
I try to think of any name that begins with 1. I'm mentally browsing Star Wars droid names when my son puts me out of my misery.

"Wonder Woman!"

Sunday, 5 August 2007

Lessons my sons taught me last night

My two year old son taught me that a matchbox car can make a fairly effective eating utensil.

My four year old son taught me that the altitude afforded by a top bunk vastly increases the range of projectile vomit.

(not to be outdone) my four week old son taught me that a newborn baby lying on his back can fountain milk clear over the 20cm wall of a bassinet.

The last two happened at 1am at either end of the house, like duelling banjos. I guess my four year old is becoming a leader.
In my already sleep-deprived daze, as I stripped beds and scrubbed at carpet, one mystery kept floating through my mind: But he refuses to eat carrots.

The room is spinning, my eyes are burning, and it's Monday. Still, as every parent knows, you don't start feeling REAL fatigue until about the four month mark...