It was definitely a fun weekend…something of a busman’s holiday for me, as I managed to combine taking part in and writing about Bristol Pride professionally with a day out in my old stomping ground of Bath and Bristol with the boy.
It was, too, a beginning to a conversation with him that has been long brewing …around tact and secrecy and discretion and lying and just where the boundary lies between those dreadfully adult ideas. Read the rest of this entry »
Ah. Radio 4′s News Quiz. Sandi Toksvig. Jeremy Hardy. And the need, once more, to navigate carefully the narrows of an expanding juvenile awareness of the perils and pitfalls of “bad language”. Read the rest of this entry »
Last night.
The boy picks up a small piece of paper and a pen. He asks me how to spell “sorry”, which he then proceeds to scrawl in his inimitable style. Then…i must not look while he does this…he adds a graphic, which looks significantly like a boot, and the word “bots” (sic).
After which he passes the whole to me and comes in close for a hug.
His crime? Er. Tipping large gobbets of chicken and mushroom pot noodle over my best and favouritest boots.
I think i was cross. Especially as the stuff, once dried, hardens to a consistency that could easily be used in motorway bridge construction.
He is, of course, forgiven, and i shall apply myself with brush and boot polish later today.
jane
xx
