Nancy Bancy

Hello again. Rather than wait until the last possible moment to post something to this infernal blog, I thought this month I would try and get ahead and publish early. In fact, as Schlomo grows ever larger and more truculent with each passing day the thought of having to maintain the online presence of two of these little blighters stalks me like a spectre. I'm slowing losing grip of the digital world so I'm not sure what options are open to me anymore. A tumblr account for Schlomo, a twitter feed, perhaps some sort of meme based approach. It's not quite keeping me awake but occasionally I do wonder.

However, you don't come here to read about my existential angst but to get updated on the activities of the chuddy beast that is our daughter. Well, she remains the hammer apart from when she condemns me as a bad father in front of strangers (to my mother's elderly neighbour when asked to say merely "hello" Nancy came up with "Daddy shut me in my room") or decides to wee all over the sofa for no obvious reason. The hellion. She is currently suffering with a cough which has brought her into our bed, with her exclaiming last night as she lay coughing in her sleep to exclaim to no one in particular "Oh, come on" in the most indignant manner. However, as I write this all is peaceful in her domain so perhaps she is on an upward trajectory.

Obviously, judging by both the date and time of this post, the ambitions expressed in the first paragraph went unrealised, but I remained determined not to miss a month. Not this time. Nancy deserves better. We all do. It has become apparent that Nancy has a strong didactic streak and is is becoming renowned in all her childcare solutions as something of a talker. She confessed to me the other morning that she had informed her nursery of how the dinosaurs had died. Which must have been a great relief to all concerned. Similar, on picking her up from the woods, she had been correcting the outrageous mendacity of one of her peers who dared called a baby kangaroo a baby kangaroo rather than a joey. It's a fair point, but one wonders how this will all end.

On the subject of baby kangaroos, Nancy is the proud mother of Rosie the Joey, who is a joey incarnated in the body of a giraffe, but is now forever in her pouch. Day, night and everything in between. It's very silly. Indeed.

Enjoy. x

Mental

Socialism in action

Don't panic Nancy picked out the fruit from this ice cream.

Flying Fish.