Thursday, April 28, 2011

absence makes the heart grow fonder

Wee Small, arms spread out, ran up to me and hugged my knees. Her little face looked all the way up to my face, as she yelled at me happily;

"It's so good to see you! I haven't seen you for five minutes!"

Sunday, April 24, 2011

A pet is an essential part of childhood

Wee Small can whistle. A little breathy perhaps, but a whistle nonetheless.

I could hear her walking around outside whistling. She was whistling to her new pet.

And I could hear her say "Come on, come on Bumble"

Bumble is a bee.

"Come on bumble, let's go!"

I should add that Bumble is not too good at following when called.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

the zoo

One day the little ones and I packed up all our stuff and went off to the zoo to see the baby elephant. He was very cute.

But this is not about him.

It is about a photo I took of a gorilla.

Being a parent, and in the interests of safety, I feel compelled to alert the little ones about the dangers of hanging upside-down off the roof, sticking forks into eyeballs, etc.

And sometimes I feel I am talking and talking while no-one is listening.

Sometimes I feel like this gorilla.



Okay, enough about being a parent.

Here is Mr. Snuffles:

Thursday, April 14, 2011

marsupial

Those in immanent proximity to little ones for extended hours always appreciate a good nights sleep.

Mr. Possum loves to sleep too.

He sleeps all day, and then he likes to travel down the newly finished 8 lane possum super highway. He likes to do this at the hour that is technically referred to as " the dead of night."

I like to be scientific and accurate when composing these chronicles. So there are three stages in Mr. Possum's journey;

The first stage is on the aforementioned possum superhighway's on-ramp - a young freshly surfaced branch that reaches the roof. He is as noiseless as a ninja on that. This gives Mr. Possum the element of surprise.

Stage Two comprises of the sound of Mr. Possum's little scratchy feet scuttling over the roof. Stage Two is an underrated yet important process preceding Stage Three. It is what is called "the setup" - the little scratchy feet take the professional sleeper out of REM - dead to the world sleep, into post hypnotic dozing, and thus suggestible to any prompting. If it wasn't for the scratchings and scuttlings of Stage Two, then Stage Three could not occur.

Then comes "The Leap of Faith." There are people around here that argue "the leap" is a stage in itself. Purists like myself see it only as a transitional jump - a daring and huge one at that, but a jump all the same.

Stage Three is the precise moment the jump finishes. It is the shortest stage as our acrobatic aeronautical pre-flight possum lands with a resounding crash on a tin roof. The empty shed amplifies the sound, and (as the little ones have thoughtfully left the shed door open after playing in there) the amplified noise travels straight back towards me in Stage Two affected sleep where I wake up yelling in fright.


the alleged possum

The little ones, however, sleep peacefully through all of this. They wake up fresh and happy on a brand new day, all ready to play in the shed again.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

mysteries of nature

Scientists have been agog at a new species of Echidna (kind of hedgehog, kind of spiny ant-eater) that has been found rambling along, quietly enjoying itself on tummy mountain.


Scientists have named the new species "spikus potaticus"
It is unknown at this stage what this creature eats, where it dwells, or why it has been mysteriously undiscovered until now.


After much poking and prodding, Spikus Potaticus, sick of all the attention, bumbles off into the distance.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

new friends

Wee Tiny has some new friends.

They are her toes.

I didn't quite catch all their names, but she told me in her little voice "that one is Big Sister, and that one is Little Sister, and that one is Rose, and that one is Harmonica, and that one is..."

such lovely names