sugar farms, worry and bringing up the rear

Things I’ve learned from my children today

The sugar farm has begun. Both of them were at it so I gave in. I bought lots of food colouring and cooked up a pan full of sugar. Now I have a string covered in green crystals hanging from my drying rack and dripping sticky green goo into the clean socks. There will be different flavours too and Boy One is already planning a book of secret recipes.

If the work of a parent is worry, the work of an AS parent is to worry even more. Boy One has got the notion that he can amuse and make friends by offering himself like a sort of slapstick sacrifice. “Boy Three loves it when I hurt myself.” “It’s funny when I hit myself in the face with a shoe.” I’m trying really hard to explain that humour and pain may occasionally be bedfellows but there is not an inevitable link. You’ve Been Framed has a lot to answer for.

Boy Three is rear wheel/ leg drive. The feet are going forward but the arms aren’t. The net result of this apparent progress is that the smallest bum in the house goes skywards until it reaches its zenith… then he falls over looking puzzled and laughing.