Here's a tiny drama from this morning.
The scene: It's Sunday morning. Abigail has got up early, refused anything resembling breakfast and eventually agreed to eat her untouched school packed lunch from the fridge. Mummy has left her with this and CBeebies, made herself a cup of tea and gone upstairs to sort things out. Jeremy has pottered down to watch CBeebies, and TheRev is in the study, printing stuff.
Mummy comes back down the stairs to find Abi waiting at the bottom.
Abi: (With relish) Mummy! I beened lots of naughty.
Mummy: Uh oh.
Abi: But, I want to be friends.
Mummy: Okay. Well, what did you do?
Abi: I eated my spoon.
Mummy: Sorry. You ate your what?
Abi: My spoon.
Mummy: Your - I - I'm not sure I've understood. You ate a spoon?
Abi: Can we be friends?
Mummy: A spoon? Are you sure?
Abi: Yes.
Mummy: Can you show me?
Abi leads Mummy to the sitting room and points to the remains of her packed lunch. The plastic baby spoon which was with the (unopened) yoghurt now only has half a spoon on the handle.
Mummy: You ATE a SPOON? But how...why...I mean, the other bit must be somewhere! Did you swallow it?
Abi: Are we friends?
Mummy: Yes but where's the SPOON? Is it in your tummy?
Abi: I don't know. I spitted it out.
Mummy: Then why can't I see it anywhere?
Jem: Abi putted cheese on mine train.
Mummy: Oh. Yes, I can see that, but - Jem, did you see her eat a spoon?
Jem: *proffering train* Clean it!
Mummy: I can't really...here, have a wipe...Daddy, come in here, I think Abi has actually eaten a spoon!
Daddy: I'm coming! That's just printing, I can help get the kids dressed.
Mummy: They are already dressed. The issue here is that one of them has eaten a spoon.
There follows a time of panic as we both hunt for the other bit of the spoon and consider the idea that our food phobic daughter has managed to consume a sharp bit of plastic for breakfast
Daddy: It's really gone!
Mummy: What's that in...Jeremy's hair! It's in his hair!
Yes, that funny green thing in Jem's hair was really the top of the spoon, affixed with cream cheese.
It is a miracle every Sunday that we get to church on time.
The scene: It's Sunday morning. Abigail has got up early, refused anything resembling breakfast and eventually agreed to eat her untouched school packed lunch from the fridge. Mummy has left her with this and CBeebies, made herself a cup of tea and gone upstairs to sort things out. Jeremy has pottered down to watch CBeebies, and TheRev is in the study, printing stuff.
Mummy comes back down the stairs to find Abi waiting at the bottom.
Abi: (With relish) Mummy! I beened lots of naughty.
Mummy: Uh oh.
Abi: But, I want to be friends.
Mummy: Okay. Well, what did you do?
Abi: I eated my spoon.
Mummy: Sorry. You ate your what?
Abi: My spoon.
Mummy: Your - I - I'm not sure I've understood. You ate a spoon?
Abi: Can we be friends?
Mummy: A spoon? Are you sure?
Abi: Yes.
Mummy: Can you show me?
Abi leads Mummy to the sitting room and points to the remains of her packed lunch. The plastic baby spoon which was with the (unopened) yoghurt now only has half a spoon on the handle.
Mummy: You ATE a SPOON? But how...why...I mean, the other bit must be somewhere! Did you swallow it?
Abi: Are we friends?
Mummy: Yes but where's the SPOON? Is it in your tummy?
Abi: I don't know. I spitted it out.
Mummy: Then why can't I see it anywhere?
Jem: Abi putted cheese on mine train.
Mummy: Oh. Yes, I can see that, but - Jem, did you see her eat a spoon?
Jem: *proffering train* Clean it!
Mummy: I can't really...here, have a wipe...Daddy, come in here, I think Abi has actually eaten a spoon!
Daddy: I'm coming! That's just printing, I can help get the kids dressed.
Mummy: They are already dressed. The issue here is that one of them has eaten a spoon.
There follows a time of panic as we both hunt for the other bit of the spoon and consider the idea that our food phobic daughter has managed to consume a sharp bit of plastic for breakfast
Daddy: It's really gone!
Mummy: What's that in...Jeremy's hair! It's in his hair!
Yes, that funny green thing in Jem's hair was really the top of the spoon, affixed with cream cheese.
It is a miracle every Sunday that we get to church on time.
