with my mouth opening, then closing again
Between picking her up from nursery and getting her coat off at home:
"I don't want it to be autumn, mummy, I want it to be morning!"
"Postman Pat can't come into my school, can he mummy, because he's not a dinosaur"
"Why are the breakfast things still on the table from this morning?"
Monday, November 13, 2006
It's not you. It's them. Absolutely. Them.
About Me
- Name: dodo
- Location: London, United Kingdom
Recently reclaimed by PR industry after more recent background in lobbying and, before that, business journalism. From London and working part time in city but living in sticks. Trying not to pass on to my daughter all that my mother kindly left me. Raging against inevitability. Getting better at it. or not. NEED to rewrite this to say i'm not working at the moment and that there's all kinds of neds stuff going on, but to do that seems really official and final, so a postscript will have to do.
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4 Comments:
Number 2 has me scratching my head. Did you at least understand it?
well. there was soemthing about postman pat early this morning in the context of - it;s really cold out, you'll need your coat. Lilly May says I don;t have to. Look outside, everyone's wearing their coats. I don't want to. Look here's the postman, he's wearing his coat.
But that's all I have
Oh man- the breakfast things were still on the table? what are you- some kind of normal mom? LOL. I hate when my daughter calls me out!
Now I get it...sort of.
Hee. She's totally Virginia Wolfe. (With the random stream of consciousness...not the depressing suicide stuff.)
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