Back later...
This morning Jarvis and I went to play group as I wanted to keep it nice and low-key, after the horrendous night I had with Mr. Fidget, son of Mrs. Fidget. Play group is always nice and pleasant, with Monday's having the added attraction of being the quietest day there.
When we got back Jarvis and I had a lovely lunch in the sun, sitting on his Bob The Builder sofa, on the front porch. Once we'd finished I uttered the words that are guaranteed to get Jarvis up off his bum..."So who wants to go up into the loft then?" Now Jarvis only has to hear the word loft or hear the creak of the loft door opening and he's on his feet, busting to climb the ladder and throw his toys, or anything else for that matter down the steps.
Today's trip into the loft had a serious purpose though, as we had to get the cot down, set it up and see if it fitted into the main bedroom. I knew that it would be a tight fit in our shoe box house, but needed to get it done as the days are looming ever nearer. Plus Jarvis is always a help when doing stuff in tight spots, as I'm always dropping screws into places I can't reach, and who else can I send under the bed to retrieve them than my little man, just like one of those poor mites used in the cotton mills of the Industrial Revolution.
So yeah, with Jarvis' help, we successfully put his old cot together and managed to fit it next to the main bed with not a millimetre to spare. Jarvis tested it out for about sixty-seconds, which I think was the same lenght of time he spent in it as a baby!
House Dad.





1 comment:
Talking of fidgets, one of my boys is still like that too, at 11. He was fidgeting last night while sitting telling me about his night at Scouts. When I told him to sit still, he exclaimed "Mum, I think I must be a shark, because sharks never stop moving, if they do they stop breathing and die!" How does one answer that. I don't even know if it is true, best I go google sharks and see if he is right!
Charlie.
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