Sunday, 27 June 2010

New Technology

Preparations for the viewing of this afternoon's game involved some movement of furniture in the sitting room to ensure maximum capacity around the television.

Behind one of the arm-chairs, pulled out from its usual spot nestling against the wall, Gertie found a little sequin that must have dropped from an item of clothing months ago. It is a shiny silver disc with a minuscule hole in the middle, prompting Gertie's comment, "Oh look; it's a very tiny CD!"

I know that she belongs to a technological age where everything just gets smaller, but I haven't yet come across the technology that might play this 'micro-disc', unless it exists on Lilliput.

Wednesday, 23 June 2010

World Cup Bet

If you google 'World Cup Bet Richard Enticott' you come up with all sorts of links to stories about a chap living in New York who has put a bet on his as yet unborn son scoring for England in the 2034 World Cup. The £100 stake will see him net £1 million in the event that master Enticott is able to live out his father's dream.

This chap happens to have been the best man at our wedding, and so we are familiar with his passion for football and his...self-belief, now transmitted to his child. (Still in the womb, but due any minute now!)

This has got me thinking about the pleasures we experience in the success of our offspring. My husband (and one of Rick's best friends) is fully convinced that Gilby will one day open the batting for England in an Ashes Test Match. His initials and surname, 'A A P Gooda' are apparently an important aspect of the dream since they 'sound right' for a cricketer. So you can see, these future ideals are quite specific. My as yet unsuspecting son is under a lot of pressure. I say 'unsuspecting'; he did in fact attend his first cricket match aged just five days old.

Until Gilby arrived last summer, poor old Gertie had to do two hours of throwing and catching practice each night when Daddy came home from work. Aged two. (You think I'm joking?) In fact, now I come to think about it she was only four days old when she first went to a game. Thankfully she is now able to concentrate on ballet, which she is much more excited about...

But given his best man's bet, I'm just waiting for my husband to come back from the bookies with his version of living the dream!

Thursday, 17 June 2010

Things That Go Bump In the Night

Gertie has begun sleeping with her light on. This has only happened in the last few weeks but we've some how allowed it to become accepted practice.

One of us has then slipped in a couple of hours later and turned out the light, just before we go to bed. Sometimes we get caught and there is a small drama; most of the time there is no problem.

Gertie has been more tired of late however, and I had begun to suspect there was more to it than a simple fear of the dark. This was confirmed this evening. Gertie had been 'asleep' for a good hour when a large 'thump' was heard overhead.

This interrupted our football-viewing and required some investigation. Daddy tiptoed upstairs and slowly turned the door-handle of Gerties's be confronted by a guilty Gertie, clad in bunny ears, fairy wings and iggle piggle trousers.

"I was just....dressing up." (Nothing, if not honest.)

It's lights out from now on!

Sunday, 13 June 2010


One of Gertie's favourite foods is sausages. Her 'habit' is fed by her grandfather who never fails to bring her a ready-cooked sausage wrapped in cling-film whenever he visits. He has even, on occasion, gift-wrapped them; much to her delight.

At breakfast this morning, (sausages, obviously), Gertie suddenly noticed that I wasn't eating any. I am vegetarian and have been for twenty-five years, but Gertie had a slightly different take on things.

"Don't you like sausages, Mum?"

"No, not really..."

"That's because you're a teacher, isn't it?"

Now I can only assume that this three-year old logic stems from 'sensible' comments about her level of sausage-consumption. But perhaps there is some correlation between teaching and sausage-dislike that I have been hitherto unaware of?

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Just 'Desserts'

A friend of mine, Candy, was watching Gertie eat her lunch. Candy seemed horrified.

"What is she doing?"

"What do you mean? I've just given her some mushed up veggies and she's eating them."

"I can see that. Precisely. She's eating them. Why isn't muck smeared around her face? Up the walls? Matted in her hair? How can she do that?"

"Er...I don't really know. She's always done it; as soon as she could pick up a spoon she wasn't happy with me feeding her."

She looked at me peculiarly, and left muttering under her breath about how it 'wasn't fair'.

She had two boys of secondary school age by then, but the memories survived, and I now now think I know what she was talking about.

Gertie would have been about ten months when this exchange took place. The same age as Gilby is now. I can't say for sure that this is a gender thing, but where Gertie sat demurely and fed herself with only the occasional mishap, Gilby seems far more interested in a minute examination of the texture and composition of any foodstuff he is offered. He does not want a spoon (for anything other than as a bangy-thing) and he seems to have only the vaguest idea of exactly where on his face his mouth is located.

My kitchen looks like a war zone, with the colours of the rainbow spattered up the walls behind the high chair. The high chair itself requires jet-washing and steam-cleaning on a regular basis, and the state of the tiled floor is...indescribable. No matter how much I scrub.

So, Candy, I would like to invite you round to witness mealtimes now. I am sure you will be more than satisfied that I am getting my just deserts. (If only it were 'just dessert'.)