Sunday, May 29, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Fun with Zippers
I spend a great deal of my time trying to encourage learning and development in the wee man. So I'm not sure why his learning and development continue to surprise me so. Case in point - this evening his manual dexterity reached new heights. Now I knew he was pretty good at getting into Mumum's purse, but I had always assumed that was because she often left it wide open and in easy to reach places.
Turns out his little fingers have learned how to manipulate those confounded YKKs, as I discovered as I cooked dinner tonight. Distracted and struggling with a protein in the oven, vegetables on the boil (and maybe a bit of internetting) I failed to notice when the little guy helped himself to a pre-meal snack from our bulk bag of rice. Yes, a burlap sack normally sealed by a zipper, one filled with small, dry grains of rice.
I mean I know I have to lock the doors and the cabinets, but do I need luggage locks now for everything else?
Turns out his little fingers have learned how to manipulate those confounded YKKs, as I discovered as I cooked dinner tonight. Distracted and struggling with a protein in the oven, vegetables on the boil (and maybe a bit of internetting) I failed to notice when the little guy helped himself to a pre-meal snack from our bulk bag of rice. Yes, a burlap sack normally sealed by a zipper, one filled with small, dry grains of rice.
I mean I know I have to lock the doors and the cabinets, but do I need luggage locks now for everything else?
Monday, May 23, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Snip, snip
The rats had overtaken the house, at least there was evidence of them. Around corners, darting behind doors, creeping up stairs we'd catch glimpses of their ginger tails. Two years of growth had not only resulted in the one hair statement Mummum had sworn never to endorse, but the wee man was also well on his way to a minor league hockey career. There was no denying the mullet. So after more than two years, and much humming and hawing, he was going to get his first haircut.
He seemed to enjoy the process, although I'm sure the life size Thomas that served as his chair, copious toys and bubble blowing, all played a part. Now that the first is one over, I may well just slap a bowl on his head and trim away. I haven't actually counted, but I'd be happy to wager that at his salon of choice the going rate was close to a dollar hair.
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