HA- whaddya know, Mum was right!

So to understand and squeeze the mirth from this post you MUST read this first: (that is click on this highlighted bit for those unfamiliar with bloggy conventions)

Have you done that?



Right now we can move on without a need to repeat myself because the plan I detailed in that other post has come to pass.

We have here one more broken statue:

Poor boy, it took my second son less than a week. He was jumping on the couch and yanked on the curtain which yanked on the curtain rod which predictably fell: (as it does nearly every day. It’s a stupid system. It needs work). And then in the clamour and cacophony of the mini-domestic disaster the green lady lost an arm.

I’ll admit I felt a bit bad using my guileless son like that, especially as he was his usual apologetic self.

“Oh, me so sorry Mummy, me didn’t mean it…..”

I know that, he never does. I never did either…..

Some would say that I am still clumsy and after fiercely opening a door into my forehead onTuesday, a move that resulted in a bruise that has only now subsided, I might agree. However, I am tenfold better since the birth of my first child. Since I was carrying something more precious to me than pain-free elbows or knees. Since my cargo was now of such value that I could no longer ricochet through life. This personal paradigm shift didn’t occur until after he’d left the confines of my body. Before that I was forever opening cardoors into my rapidly expanding belly.

My second son, born in the year of the ox and all smiles and bluster, is a much finer athlete then his mother, but seems to have inherited her same cavalier attitude to self-preservation and cheap china statues.

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