The blue screen of death.
Only for dad its not a case at screaming at his computer and cursing the anti-christ that is Microsoft, but rather wailing in "I've just sat down - not now!" horror at the television screen and cursing the curiosity that is Mike(rosoft).
See, we have this telly. And when it cant get a signal of any sort it doesn't go the fuzz/snow like an ordinary telly, it goes blue. We also have an aerial cable that snakes around the room and descends to a port just next to the couch. And finally, we have this boy (you may have read about him) who is at a stage in life where nothing shall remain as it was. Including things plugged into walls. Such as aerials.
Hence it would seem his sole purpose in life is to wiggle and squirm and push and shove and hack and pull until whatever object that is placed in front of or around said aerial port is circumvented and the cable removed and dad made to wail.
He'll make a great cat burglar.
On the development front he's also been spied standing. Holding a carrot.
Mum had left the fridge open for a tick and quicker than you can say "oh my goodness the chips!" he was in. And pilfered himself a carrot.
He was so proud of himself that he stood bolt upright and displayed it triumphantly to the world, somewhat oblivious to the fact that he no longer had any attachment to mother earth other than his two feet. Mum turned around just in time to see him stand there alone for a few seconds, unaided.
"Wow"...she thought.
"Carrot" ...he thought, somewhat oblivious to his promotion up the food chain to biped.
Though in other aspects it would appear he still hasn't quite made up his mind whether he'd prefer to follow the amphibian evolutionary path. Cos the boy sure loves a swim.
Case in point.
The week past (and hence the gap in the blog) saw the lad thrust off again into the realms of academia, dragged along to another science conference. Only this time it was somewhat closer to home - the wilds of inner city Geelong - and this time he had nana and grandpa along for the ride and babysit.
On one particularly dull afternoon mum and dad jumped the good ship science and the whole tribe decamped to Portarlington. And as soon as Mike
saw the tranquil water he wanted in. So much so that he had to be stripped naked and allowed to crawl into the shallows post haste.Shallows being a bit too girly for the lad he promptly headed towards the major shipping channels. Grandad saved the day, acted tug boat and a maritime disaster was averted.
This love of the water convinced all and sundry that an end-of-conference mad dash home was in order for Mike's first scheduled swim class, which pretty much consisted of Mike getting dragged around in a whirlpool/soup of 6-12 month olds, having water tipped over his head ("one-two-three goooo!" {tip}), and Dad realising that everyone else seemed to know the full choir book of nursery rhymes while he could only belt out "Ring around a rosie".
Or was that "Whole lotta rosie"?
Mum, Mike and Babcia, Mikes great-grandmother...
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