Forgive me, father, but it has been 24 hours since I last read to Monkey-face.
We are all exhausted by the week we left behind and poor MF is hitting the terrible twos.
She did actually grab the Up in The Tree book of which I wrote yesterday, and we were essentially wrestling after page 3. Best not to push it! It’s the only book of which she is now still resoundingly possessive. Daddy did manage to read it with her later on, but halfway through, as if wiped out by the effort of sharing, she starting yawning and toddled off to get Giraffes Can’t Dance again…
Instead we walked in the park, played in the Maze, had a veggie sausage sandwich in a community Cafe run by and for a charity that supports women who are victims of domestic violence and mental health issues and bought more books from Bookseller Crow. Could I sound ANY more insufferably left wing? Probably not. It’s how we roll