At the end of this glorious, uneven day, I’m told it’s Towel Day in homage to the wonderful Douglas Adams.
The parkafterchildminder routine has been working really well through all of this week. Tonight the wheels fell off a bit. Teething and not having pooped for days, Monkey hadn’t eaten all day and I had neither a drink nor food about my person but hadn’t thought they would be needed as I expected to pick up both from the ice-cream man in residence. I also forgot to bring a book. It turned out to be windy in our little spot, there was no icecream man and monkey decided to attempt to do a bad-tempered poo under the swing, refusing to come out and popping out only to run over to me and tell me off about something. And I didn’t have a nappy with me. I finally got her out of the park with the promise of going to see daddy and get an ice-cream. I’m not sure which had more sway. When she decided to walk home backwards at a rate of a yard per ten minutes, daddy came to the rescue with books and a nappy and whisked us off to the pub. (THAT’S why I married him.) The cavalry is alive and well and looks like a Ford Focus.
So, at the pub whilst waiting for our (sadly mediocre) food, we changed Monkey’s nappy and occupied her with a table full of books. Et voila! Different child.
The Gingerbread Man
The Enormous Turnip