Noonah and Maia went swimming yesterday at Pond's Forge. I took the opportunity to sit up in the viewing platform and read my book. In fact, I spent so much time laughing and clapping and showing proper appreciation for the splashing and jumping and kicking that Maia was doing in the pool below that I didn't really get anywhere with the book. Anyway, she loved it, and we are going to make it a regular weekly event. Next week, we have agreed that she will Put Her Face Underwater.
On the way home, Maia was chatting away, narrating our journey. On the turn into our road, the subject turned to Where She Lived.
"Upper Albert Road. Number 42a. Alec lives here. Mummy lives here. I live in Upper Albert Road" and so on... We turned into the drive and Maia said "Is Daddy here?"
"No, darling" I replied, "Daddy is in Barcelona at the moment."
"But he lives there" she said, insistently pointing forward.
Misunderstanding, I said, "No, sweetie, he lives here with us, he just visits Barcelona for work."
"No" she said, pointing at the garage, "He lives there!"
Now, Pat would be the first to admit that his garage-based music room has been seeing a lot of him, especially this weekend when his friend and Whatever's Clever bandmate, Steve, came to stay. However, although hobbies are important, when your kid thinks you live in the garage, it might be time to moderate the time spent on them...
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