The weekend didn’t so much land as I fell face-first into it. The week prior has been rather busy, with a new job and my ill-advised simultaneous baking and crafting.
I was probably just a bit tired, but everything just took a bit too long or went horridly wrong. But ultimately, after a lot of intervention by lots of people, it eventually all worked out. Lovely people got together and celebrated life, love, kitchen items and friendship and I got to get home to my monkey who gave me a welcome worthy of a fifth Beatle. She is chatting away like the gorgeous force of nature that she is. I left her a week ago a toddler, and collected a chatty new friend who wants to hug me and hold my hand. I never want to leave her again.
She has a renewed interest in reading and tonight we read the Gruffalo’s Child a few times. There’s a fox in the story and I asked her whether it was mummy, daddy or her (our family name is Fox, you guessed it.) Half an hour later, she fixed me with an impish grin, felt around the back of her leggings and asked me “where’s my tail, mummy?” I laughed out loud and so did she. I loved that she knew she was being smart.
Fantastic to have her home, even if she did pull my top down in the supermarket to ask “are those your boobies, mummy?”. I’m really never leaving her again.