My dream-come-true

"Mummy, what's your 'dream-come-true'?" my 6-year-old asked me off-hand.

I said, 'You. You were my 'dream-come-true'.

He smiled. Then he ran after me and held my hand.

hundreds and thousands

hundreds and thousands, originally uploaded by Soyy.

K still can't get over the fact that if ever I have a little bit of spare time nowadays, I bake. He still can't believe that I now stay in the kitchen to create something that's edible.

So while munching through fresh choc buns that I made, he asked. Why are you baking a lot lately? Is there something I should know? (We always have a ready supply of buns and cakes from his mum.) I said, well, mum has been making lemon buns since 2003. I want something different, like chocolate, with hundreds and thousands in them!

He said, so what do you call a single hundreds and thousands? One hundreds and thousands?!

I said, I don't know. Shall we just call them 'bits'?

Conspiracy

After a long day out, we were welcomed at home with music blaring from our next door neighbour's garden. I thought it was too loud for comfort, but hey, it's nice and warm and we could do a little bit of jig anyway while trimming the hedges.

My 6-year-old said, hey mummy, that's Michael Jackson's song!

I said, yes, that's right.

He danced around and exclaimed, Michael Jackson is singing next door! He's not dead!

hot summer

This week, at least. It's particularly warm and the nights are sticky and restless. I could hear the crickets in the early evenings and the birds singing at breakfast time. It's beautiful to be outside (in the shade, of course).

This morning, we woke up an hour early because someone fiddled with the clock. No wonder I felt very tired. Nevertheless, I went straight to my paperworks waiting for me at my desk. I have a deadline to beat. K went outside and called me out. Come on, he said. Feel this. He stretched out his arms like he'd just come out from political imprisonment. It's warm. It's humid. It's like the Philippines! But I've only got my knickers on, I complained. It's fine. So I came out, and indeed it was warm. Fresh. Lovely. And after a second, I went back inside the house again, closed the curtains, and went back to my work.

This afternoon, the boys will be outside again, chasing each other, in their pants. Cold England is already forgotten.