Mummy Fail #680

This evening ignoring the signs of serious fatigue and general ineptitude to do the most simple of tasks I dropped Alby’s dinner whilst trying to carry it and his table and chair all at the same time. 

It was one of those moments where I definitely knew better.  Before I picked up the table I thought: this isn’t going to work.  Sadly my thoughts stopped there and the next thing you know potato waffles, fish fingers and, most important of all, dip dip (aka tomato ketchup) are in a messy pile on the floor. 

“OH NO!” responds Alby who then picks up his plate, puts all the food back on, carries it over to the table, sits up and starts eating, only glancing back at me to give a dismissive look and yet another “Oh no Mummy. Dip dip. Oh no”.  

Needless to say I have been firmly put in my place by Little Man.

And Little Man he is fast becoming.  Today when I picked him up from nursery I was asked to stay a moment for a word with the teacher. (Will there ever be a time when that phrase doesn’t fill me with random guilt and the sudden stock piling of excuses).  As it was I wasn’t being reprimanded (and I should jolly well hope not) but asked how I would feel if Alby moved up a class to Butterflies.  They worried I would be nervous about the idea, I’m ecstatic.  Half of his class from last term have moved up and he is now in a room with new teachers and lots of new faces.  He may not know the nursery staff who run Butterflies, but he knows the children, many of him whom are life Members of the Alby-Sunni gang. 

And yet with my glee comes yet more evidence of how much my Trouble Monkey is growing.  In seven weeks he will be two.  Time to get the party invites sorted.