This time down to Sandy Point and yet another chance to paddle in water (he turned blue; ocean waves and seabreeze through the baby-rashy dont appear to mix - a wetsuit has been ordered) and get sand blown into most major orifices.
But the most fascinating - and arguably the funniest thing - in Sandy Point on the weekend just gone was Mike's tears.
See Master M was joined in Sandy by his little friend Ashley, who he tended to look up to. Which isnt all that surprising really, given Master A is twice his age (18 months) and hence somewhat superior in length.
What was initially surprising, and thereafter both cute and clearly manipulative at the same time, was when young A would burst into sobs for one reason or another (as babes do) and Mike would hear it.
Then look at Ashley.
Then look at Dad/Mum/any adult within range
Then look at Ashely
Then look at Dad/Mum/any adult within range
Then put on a bitova lip tremble.
Then....
"WHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!!!"
Wether its a sympathy thing, some carefully orchestrated "me not him" thing, or an evolutionary development thing (cos if master A really had spotted that pterodactyl about to swoop and munch them all, it really would be advantageous for mass wailing to be enacted and parents summoned) we dont know.
But geez it was funny. (Errrr... thats meant in a compassionate way of course.)
Either way, there's parallel evidence that the lad is smart. Maybe too smart.
Hows these apples.
The boy loves a bath. Well at least he loves splashing about and playing with bath toys and yanking on the taps and attempting to rip out dads, errr... "upper leg" hairs when they share a tub. What he doesn't appear to like - and we guess the reason they go over and over it in swim school - is having a plastic boat full of water tipped over his head.
"One two three gooooo" {tip}.
Hence he's devised a plan.
Every time he seems the boat of water being lifted up, senses a slight tip and/or hears the "one two three"s, he's orf.
Straight to the side of the bath where he hangs his head as far out from the edge and over the bathmat/floor as possible.
It makes hairwashing bloody hard.
Lil bugger. Lil smart bugger.
No worries though - we've finally put this intelligence to work. Unloading the dishwasher (see video below). Or at least plucking cutlery stuff outta the dishwasher and nearest parent ripping it from his grasp before he impales him (or them) on it.
Finally, its been his first week (well, two days) of 8 am till 6 pm child care - or in this case, family day care, which basically means he lives with a family during the working day rather than being bundled into a room full of kiddies at a creche. It breaks his mums heart. And nearly exploded dads lungs as he peddled home furiously to collect the lad in time.
Hence Master M has a new lady in his life: Jackie - plus her kids and the couple of others she cares for. And thus far its been all tired smiles, and some weird new form of YMCA-like dancing, when its come to home time (i.e., thumbs up from Mike).
Yet another new chapter begins....
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