Oh god. IT HAS BEGUN. We have received our first weekend party invitation from one of the microbe’s little nursery pals.
My initial reaction of “ooh, goody, that’ll keep him busy for a few hours” was met with a pitying look from G, who had to point out that we don’t get to drop him off and run. At least one parent is going to have to attend these hell-fests too.*
*child-free readers, please consider this post a free virtual contraceptive. You’re welcome*
In other nursery news, today was supposed to be “Teddy Bear’s Picnic Day“. But guess who forgot to send him in with his teddy and a favourite book? Parenting fail #101
This totally undermines my self-appointed medal of smugness yesterday for managing to honour “Japan Day” with only 12 hours notice. They honestly sent us an email the afternoon before, asking us to dress our microbes in traditional Japanese costume. (Ha!!) Luckily the fall-back suggestion of dressing them in red and white was something that I could manage.
Unfortunately the boylet didn’t seem to like the Japanese food and came home absolutely ravenous. The knock-on effect of this was G and I each independently giving him a mountain of radioactive animal biscuits to consume before bed.
3-hours or so later, when the sugar-rush had finally begun to subside, my attempts to bore him to sleep went a bit like this:
“Mummy I’ve got something to tell you”
“what is it?”
“It’s about my barn over there…” *starts to tip-toe over to toy corner*
“No! It’s not playtime. It’s sleep time. Leave the barn alone. ”
“Oh.” *lies back down*
“Mummy, I’ve got something else to tell you”
“What is it?”
“It’s about my purple bird over there” *starts to creep back to toys…*
“No! Stop it. You don’t need any toys right now. Lie down!”
*another pause, followed by a sudden rush of wind as ninja-boy flies across the room and grabs the bird*
“Oi! I said no!”
“Stop it. I’m not laughing.” *cough cough*
“That was naughty. Now LIE BACK DOWN!”
“But I need to tell you a story about my bird”
“Oh… go on then.”
Suffice to say, his stories are not what you’d call works of literary fiction, however much they may have in common with Finnegan’s Wake.
My last shred of nursery-related news is that the boy has been coming home lately covered in tooth marks, courtesy of his little pal (the bunny-boiler). I probably ought to be concerned but, in truth, I’m a tad relieved that he’s playing the role of bitee, these days, rather than biter.
Yesterday we received not one but two ‘injury slips’ detailing the circumstances of his new chomp-marks… “James and another child were playing in the book corner when a disagreement ensued…”
(I probably shouldn’t laugh, should I?)
Well – that’s all from me today. Sorry no pics – this one was belted out on the tube.