Last weekend the microbe continued on his path to skullduggery with an act of wanton shoplifting. (Sorry, M&S. It appears we owe you £2.75).
We discovered this “sad choice” on our way back to the car after a fruitless traipse around Kingston town centre. Suffice to say, as the day draws on, toddler-chatter can start to sound a lot like white noise. So it took a while for James’s enthusiastic refrain of “Mummy! Elephant! Mummy! Elephant!” to filter through to my brain… at which point I noticed that he did indeed have a small and ill-gotten plastic elephant clutched in his hand.
G and I had a brief conflab about whether to re-traipse our weary steps to M&S or say nothing and slink off to the car like guilty skunks, I am afraid, dear reader, that the path of least resistance won the day. To assuage our guilt, we shall drop an equivalent sum into the next worthwhile charity box we pass, on behalf of M&S. (I expect I will probably also procure several ‘friends’ from the M&S range for the boylet’s Xmas stocking.)
Ill-gotten “Ellie” has since become the latest in a series of beloved familiars that must be carried around AT ALL TIMES. He typically has two of these familiars on the go at any time – a furry one that lives under his arm and a small plastic one that fits into his hand. Woe betide us if he loses either of these! At least until the next usurper turns up. (Fickleness thy name is toddler.)
Meanwhile his bed has become a veritable zoo. On a typical night the boy has to cram himself in amid a menagerie of teddy bears, elephants, tigers, giraffes, owls, pigs and various small plastic farm animals.
Last weekend also included a Halloween-themed children’s party, for which we made skeleton gingerbread men. Before the party the boylet announced that he wanted to dress up as a witch. This was mighty inconvenient, given that I had already purchased a Dracula outfit for him. So, like it or not, I had to sweep back his hair and convince him to go as Microbe the Terrible. (And no, I am not secretly planning to audition him as a Robert Smith toddler tribute act).
G and I went as Madam Reaper and a ludicrously trim gimp. (I swear G has found way to siphon off all of his lard and send it my way – damn ye!)
After the party the microbe stayed up very late and got thoroughly overexcited as we visited some friends for dinner and he got to tickle “a man called Gruffalo”.
The following day he had yet more excitement with his first ever theatre trip (to see What the Ladybird Heard in Kingston), followed by a spot of shop-lifting and, finally, a fireworks display. All in all – this proved to be FAR too much fun for a tired microbe, not to mention his parents. (By the time we reached a drizzly Sunday evening, the fireworks display was barely endured by the three of us.)
In much more sedentary news, the boylet has fallen well and truly for the charms of YouTube ever since I installed an iPad app that blocks adult content and gives toddlers a child-safe interface for surfing videos. Contrary to all parenting advice (in the books I never read) he spends his last hour before bedtime prodding away at the screen to watch The Three Little Pigs and Alphablocks and strange Russian cartoons about naughty monkeys. Curious George, Schmurious Schmeorge!
As for me, I am afraid to confess that I have might been surfing twee Christmasy things on Pinterest and accidentally reawakened my inner Kirsty Allsop. I can’t seem to keep her down for long, no matter how hard I hit her on the head. Anyway, having a toddler gives me an EXCUSE!
Suffice to say, I may have been seen carrying a large roll of green felt home on the tube so that I can make one of these. I do love this idea – it’s a sort of large fuzzy-felt Xmas tree that toddlers can decorate and un-decorate at will. If ours turns out well I shall be hanging it on the microbe’s bedroom door this December.
Now someone just needs to drag me away from Martha Stewart…