Sunday, January 2, 2011

OK, don't bust your boiler, Toots

We went for a big 4.5km walk earlier today. A round trip past Lolly's new 4 year-old kinder to see how long it would take me to walk it. The answer is: about 25 minutes and 2km's. Oh, the hills. How they are a-killin' my glutes right about now (the sweet, sweet burn, ahhhhh). I was already kind of puffed and feeling really out of shape by the time we were over half way there, but I knew the last part would be the hardest, having driven it and doing this one particular long hill in second gear in the car.

We made it to the foot of the hill. Steve took Jazz and started virtually skipping up the steep path. And that's when Lolly started with the questions, expecting me to answer. I couldn't even manage a sound. What a disgracefully unfit performance!

I would like to formally apologise now for any residents who may be reading this and were alarmed by the wheezing sound as I chugged up that hill (and the next one.... and the next) pushing 30-something kilo's of offspring, stroller and supplies in front of me. And while I'm at it, I'd better also apologise for my child who, at every peak and downhill run, put her arms out Leonardo-on-the-Titanic fashion and yelled, "WINNER, WINNER, CHICKEN DINNER! WOOOOO-HOO!" as if she was riding a rollercoaster.  Come on, kid. It wasn't that fast a ride down compared to going up. Or was it?

Anyway, then the LGBB started doing that thing I always warn her against:  grabbing and pulling at random vegetation that's hanging over fences and bordering the footpaths. 

Well. Today, what I had warned her about finally happened. She got that grass-cut. Ooooooooh *wince* I have done that so many times in my misspent youth, probably in spite of my mother's warnings. And so we had Lolly going into shuddering convulsions and hyperventilating overkill about the slicing of her pinky. "THERE'S BLOOOOOD!" came the shrieks, in that hysterical tone that you're sure is going to bring people out of their homes, dialling Emergency-000 as they come to save the little girl from the beastly parents. That was a fun walk home.

Then we had the trilogy of knocks. You know, when your kid bumps an elbow then miscalculates clearance under a metal rod and whacks themselves in the head and then manages to collect a foot with a coffee table leg that has always been there in that position of the room (let alone hasn't moved in the last 2 minutes of play)? Yeah. That all happened. In the space of less than half an hour. Dutiful rocking-hugs on the couch ensued after each incident.

To top it off, as if I wasn't already tipped off about a certain little somebody who may or may not have arisen from the wrong side of the bed this morning, I got challenged angrily just before by the LGBB after I moved around some dollhouse furniture. In my remodelling, I suggested, "The toilet might be a bit more useful off the front lawn", to which the snappy retort was, "We don't have toilets in bathrooms in this world".

Ok, Miss Four. Don't explode your noggin. I'm going to make a cup of tea.

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