Today we went to the library and Buster was in charge of choosing a couple of books for the MonkeyFish. Usually this involves choosing something with not too many words (nobody wants to be reading for 40 minutes at bedtime). But today, Buster has had an epic fail.

Today he chose a book called 'Sniff'.

In the book, Sniff the dog is sad because Granny isn't sitting in her chair anymore and the rest of the family try to cheer him up by telling him that they love him. The point being, of course, that dear old Granny has passed on.

I read the book before I realised the subject matter.

LG: Why Sniff was sad?
MF: Because Granny isn't there.
LG: Where's Granny then?
MF: I don't know.
LG: I think Granny died.
MF: Why?
LG: I don't know why.
MF: Do you think she got eaten by a crocodile or something?

Child rearing (near) disasters

So, Wednesday morning turns up as usual but I've picked up a nasty cold (cue coughing fit).The MonkeyFish has emptied the entire Lego box over the floor so I tell him that if he picks up all the Lego on his own, he can watch Finding Nemo (or Memo as he refers to it). I figure this will save me picking up the Lego and buy me 90 minutes of quiet time to get in with the washing etc while we are all stuck inside on a rainy day. The MonkeyFish picks up the Lego and settles in to watch the movie.

All goes well and when the movie ends he's fine. I make some sandwiches and then it starts. Mummy, you be the pelican and I'll be the seagull. Mine, mine, mine.

Endlessly. All day. And all day again today. Finally at 5pm, I've had it. MonkeyFish, that's enough, please stop being a seagull. Mine. No, really, no more. Mine, mine. MonkeyFish, I've asked you to stop, I'm not asking again. Mine, mine, mine. If you don't stop, you can go to your room for two minutes. Mine. Right. Bedroom. Now. Noooooooooooo. Yes, for two minutes and I don't want to hear anymore mine *drags child up hallway*. Put him in his room and turn to walk out when a little voice, barely audible says 'mine'.

I bolt from the room in near hysterics with tears tolling down my cheeks trying desperately to not let him see that I'm laughing.

Too long for twitter

*imagining conversation* I know, let's get LG to prepare the contracts, what with her tenuous grasp of legalese, and her attention to detail rating in the negatives, she's the perfect choice to draft up these overly complex and yet legally binding documents.

Feline ratbag

So the cat hasn't always been evil. She was Busters cat before we met, but she used to quite like me. Once the MonkeyFish was born, she turned on me with avengence. Every time I walked passed her, she'd bite my foot, leg or ankle - whichever part of me that she could press her yellowing fangs into. Hard enough to draw blood too.

She was just getting over the worst of the hatred when Ponyboy was born. I feared the biting would again commence. And it did, briefly.

But now she is warming to the idea of being a family-cat. Several times I've found her asleep on the MonkeyFish's bed at night. Curled up near his feet, purring and all puffed up. A couple of times, I've even shut her in his room accidentally when I've gone to bed and been dragged from my dreams by her insistent scratching at the door.

Today I saw her crouching on the grass while the MonkeyFish hared about. He eventually sidled up to her and gently patted her back. Rather than ignoring him, she stretched her neck up and slightly lifted her bottom up off the ground.

She's finally decided that he is acceptable because he can pat her.

Dinosaur birthday cake!

So my dinosaur cake looked a bit like the (a?) Loch Ness Monster but the MonkeyFish was delighted.

I think these are my favourite shoes

Boy, aren't you glad you tuned in for this one.

Lies I tell my child

- There is only one shop that sells doughnuts at Indooroopilly.
- Only Granma's can make the coin-operated rides at the shops go around and around.