17th December.

 

It’s an unexpectedly early start to the Christmas Holidays for Freddie today. This is due to an outbreak of “Slap Cheek” infection at his school. Freddie is well himself, so far, but that is one childhood infection that could be problematic for him, because of his medical history. Knowing this, his teacher rang me yesterday to say that they had one case confirmed , and another child sent home with similar symptoms, and we decided it would be best if Freddie stayed at home until after the Christmas break. So it’s a nice leisurely day for me, then – trying to clean the place up, with a little chortling person half-inching my cloths and legging it at high speed, “zapping” everything with stolen antibax, and helping me by taking the duster and carefully re-applying all the dust I just wiped off. The cupboards are almost bare and Big Brother, aka The Human Food Hoover, is due home tonight, accompanied by his laundry. Bring on the Christmas holidays …

15th December

  
Freddie looked at the murky morning beyond the kitchen window.

“It’s froggy,” he announced.

That didn’t stop him putting on the sun hat and shades that he refused to wear in Greece, where it was 38 degrees.

Thank goodness he didn’t insist on open-toad sandals, too.

Christmas Jumper Day.

After a minor skirmish over whether or not you should wear anything other than a Christmas jumper on ‘Christmas Jumper Day’ (He seemed to find my insistence on adding underwear and trousers frankly unreasonable) Freddie departed for school. In exchange for the opportunity to wear a piece of eye-bogglingly vulgar acrylic knitwear instead of the regulation navy-blue sweatshirt, we are expected to contribute cakes for the Christmas Fair (thankfully, for health and safety reasons they do not accept home-made donations, in case you didn’t wash your hands first, or couldn’t resist making ball-bearing cupcakes in the hope of choking the kid who taught your child to say ‘**** off”). So I tucked two boxes of carefully chosen cakes (ball-bearing free, I swear) into his school bag. 

At least, they were cakes. When the minibus arrived Freddie grabbed said bag and launched it the full length of the hall (so much better than carrying it all the way to the front door).

Probably best eaten with a spoon now …

9th December 

That moment when your child looks at his dad, and says: 

 
“It’s like a man, or a missing link.”

He’s been watching Tarzan.

Echolalia can be a b***er sometimes.

On the plus side … Today he got a “stickyfoot” for excellent swimming …