December 16th 2011
I was upstairs in the bathroom with Patrick this morning when we heard a loud squeal from Emilia, who was down at the breakfast table with Rachel.
Patrick, toothbrush in hand, gives me a knowing look and starts listing off possible causes of the commotion.
“Pulled hair? Biting? Pinching?”
“Probably” I agree, and we both roll our eyes.
When we get downstairs we discover that a new crime has been committed when Emilia complains;
“Rachel spat in my cereal!”
It made me think of a similar story when cousin Charlie was a baby in the highchair at the table next to Patrick (then 3.) He sneezed hugely and Patrick ticked him off;
“No, Charlie, I don’t like that! I don’t like Bless-you on my cheek!’
To distract Emilia, I reminded her of a time, and I am not sure if it is worse or better, that Ben was midway through a bowl of cornflakes and suddenly stopped and announced,
“Mummy, there is a stick insect in my cereal.”
Our stick insects had had babies and we seemed to have had an escapee (or more – who could tell, we never counted.) Luckily this one was returned to the tank before it came to the crunch.
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