We all know that other people's children are not particularly interesting, and are even less interesting if you don't have children yourself and therefore can't appreciate the intense feelings of love, despair, happiness, tiredness, joy, sadness, etc, etc, that having a child/children can bring. Therefore, you have my permission to skip this post as it is all about my little boy. I'm writing this post because I want to be able to remember these two little incidents that made me laugh.
The background to both of these stories is the same - darling child (aka DC) loves, loves, loves cleaning, mopping, wiping, brushing and generally tidying up. Strange but true, and I'm sure he'll grow out of it at about the same time as he could become quite proficient (and therefore helpful) at it.
Incident no. 1: I had just had a shower and washed my hair when DC came trotting into the bedroom. He exclaimed over my wet hair 'aaah, uh oh, ayeee' and went running off in the direction of the kitchen; moments later he was back with a tea towel and ordered me to sit on the floor so that he could use said tea towel to help pat my hair dry. Bless.
Incident no. 2: DC had been playing in his paddling pool in the garden and thus was trouser and nappy-less. Once he got bored with that he came into the house; after about an hour I was beginning to think it was probably time to get a nappy back on him in order to avoid any little accidents. At about the same time I heard an 'Uh-oh' and round the corner came DC. He took hold of my hand, walked me into the hallway and pointed to a little puddle on the (thankfully wooden) floor. 'Uh-oh' I agreed, as did hubby. DC quickly ran off in the direction of the kitchen at the same time as hubby dashed into the bathroom to fetch some loo roll and begin the mopping up process. By the time DC was back clutching the tea towel we knew he'd gone to fetch, the puddle was gone and all was right in the world. Except DC didn't agree, he was almost distraught that there was no puddle for him to mop up and there were tears. Once he recovered from crying (after just a few seconds, I might add) he realised what he needed to do. So he stood there in the hallway screwing up his little face and trying with all his might to squeeze out another wee. Luckily for us all he managed was a couple of little parps, which made us all laugh and made DC forget what it was he was upset about. And off he went to find some toys to play with.
And that is the end of this little post about my darling boy and his funny little ways.