In the tumble back to school for the new year, we missed a haircut for Eddie.
Consequently he looks like a young Justin Bieber. Never an image I would have consciously sort, and bizarrely inappropriate for a four year old.
But that is the least of my problems. I know that one of the joys of children is watching them speak their mind, but, when a close family friend arrived at the weekend bearing some late Christmas gifts, the conversation went something like this:
L: Happy Christmas Eddie! (Handing over wrapped present)
E: What is it? (Sound of tearing paper)
L: It's a hat. I thought it would suit you.
E: Ugh. I hate it. (Throws present up in the air and runs from the room)
L: (Laughs, awkwardly)
E: (Running back in) Anyway, are you having a baby?
L: (Shocked) Er...no, I'm not.
E: Oh. Why are your boobies so large, then?
She didn't stay long.
Currently reading: Waiting for Sunrise by William Boyd