"Can I get out of the car through the window mum?" says Small Sprog after school. I thought for a minute. My initial response on the tip of my tongue was NO! But then I thought, why not? It wasn't going to do any harm, was it?
"Yes" I replied. His face lit up. I opened the electric windows and he was out in a trice. "Can I do it again?" He shouts "Can I get in that way, can I?"
Hum, sometimes one makes the wrong choices! What had I started?
We went to the bank and I was thinking he may have forgotten on returning to the car. Who was I trying to kid. "Can I get in through the window?" He says excitedly.
"Well, it's not possible is it?" I say "'Cause I have to open the door to put the key in to open the window in the first place, there's not point in going through the window when the doors open"
He was crestfallen. My grown up logic was totally boring.
"Hang on" I said as I opened the door and placed the key in the ignition, put down the window and shut the door again "Go on then!" In he got, pleased with himself.
"Your turn!" he squeals from the passenger seat.
I did wonder if anyone was watching the ridiculous turn of events as it unfolded, it can't possibly have made sense to a bystander. (And no, I didn't!)
At tea time he tried to gross his sister out by covering his mashed potatoes with tomato sauce. Instead of building a 'volcacno' of potato and then filling it with red hot 'lava', he had leveled it all on his plate and was zigzagging the sauce too and fro. What happened to the table rule of not playing with your food, I thought absentmindedly as I watched him? I really must try harder.
"That's enough sauce!" was about all I could muster, it was almost mesmerising watching the sauce slowly dribble onto his mash. I must have been tired, what was I thinking?
"Look!" He suddenly exclaims "A Jackson Pollock!"
"Oh Yes" We both exclaim.
"We could sell that!"
I guess Damien Hurst has done worse!