Sunday 13 September 2015

we survived

i've just handed back a very excited (although bathed and pajama'd - go me) four and a half year old to his parents, who really are very good friends (still!). He was actually very well behaved, but when you don't have children, spending 52 hours with a snapper cold turkey like that is a bit of a shock. I am now sitting in my toy-free (how do they get everywhere like that? why so many small sharp pieces? why do they make so much noise? who decided the toy piano needed a bird chirping voice? WHO? I would like to have some serious words with them) and QUIET living room with a rather large whiskey.

he's still in the 'why' stage which can not only get quite trying, but often leads down paths you do not want to go down. "what are the stones in the grass" leads alarmingly quickly to "but why can't we dig up dead people? i want to see one!" (when i laughed about this to his mom, she said "tell him it's not polite to dig up dead people" which i found to be quite an illuminating insight into the british psyche). i also find it alarming how many ways there are to seriously harm yourself when you're four and intent on jumping off of any surface at any height, and running pell mell down stairs, and clumsy at the best of times. my heart was in my throat half the time. "why can't i climb up there?" "because i'll have a heart attack. "oh." "what's a heart attack?"

its good to see how other people live, and there is something completely endearing (if a bit sticky) about chubby preschool arms wrapped around your neck, but i am feeling very very happy with my own lifestyle choices at the moment.

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