Happy Birthday to me! Today is my 100th post!
I love my little boy. After spending time making him an astronaut suit for the fancy dress yesterday, I trailed him down to take part (his first time) along with his sister, and he didn't get placed. Now, some kids would have been devastated about this, but not H. He could teach us all a lesson. His response when I said he hadn't won was 'yeah, I know Mum, but it doesn't matter, they gave me a pound and I have the best astronaut costume in the world. Can I go and get sweeties with my pound?' His sister on the other hand was less forgiving.....how can two kids from the same parents have such different personalities? Oh and I love her too, just in case anyone thought otherwise. S has barred me from entering any hand sewn costumes from now on, at least he said, until they remove Stevie Wonder and David Blunkett from the judging panel. I really don't mind at all, as I love making them and the fact that folk think they are bought is a big compliment.
Today is school sports day which usually involves lingering in the field at the school with other parents, watching our assorted offspring bounce on space hoppers, throw stuff through hoops and jump over hurdles. None of your traditional stuff there. H was not amused. He, like myself, is not sporty. Although, I do confess to always having tried my best, but really hated P.E. Mainly because at secondary the head of P.E. was a prize pillock, with a ego as big as his pigeon chest. And the female staff weren't much better, with more testosterone between them than the school rugby team. And then there were the showers......Anyway I digress. Arrived at 9.30 to a fully assembled field of kids and spent an hour quite literally freezing as we watched. I ended up with earache and was glad to get home. Scottish June weather is ghastly and I made sure to look out my woolly hat and gloves for the afternoon session. Honestly, folk south of the border probably wouldn't believe the weather we suffer.
H informed me yesterday, that his pal was moving house. I checked with his mum who said they weren't, and then asked H where he had got it from. He said that A had announced it at news time. I said he had obviously made it up for something to say. H said, 'Yes I think he was telling porcupines!' I thought for a moment and then realised he meant 'porky pies', the rhyming slang for lies!