He Won’t Try That Again in a Hurry

As they are still only three years old (until next week) the tooth fairy hasn’t had cause to visit our house as yet.

This was clearly a sub-optimal situation – well in Charlie’s eyes anyway.

I mean, why else would he think it was a good idea to grip the dangly bathroom light switch of . . . → Read More: He Won’t Try That Again in a Hurry

A Guffalo, What’s a Guffalo?

Here’s the latest dinnertime gem from Charlie.

C: Mummy, do you know what a Guffalo is?

H: Don’t you mean Gruffalo?

C: No a Guffalo, do you know what a Guffalo is?

H: No.

C: It’s a massive monster with horns that kills people with its guffs.

C & M: Ha ha ha ha, etc . . . → Read More: A Guffalo, What’s a Guffalo?

That’s My Boy

About 30 odd years ago on selected Sundays, you would have often found my Dad sitting on a bench next to Hiltingbury Lakes, reading the paper.

Sitting in front of him on a small folding stool, with a 6ft Woolworth’s fishing rod in hand and an unbreakable air of expectancy was a chubby ginger* kid.

. . . → Read More: That’s My Boy