Mummy, I....

"Mummy, I sweeped up the milk with my hair!" reports Kees, proud as punch. Of course, after the initial confusion, the first thought is....so where is the rest of the milk, and why did it need to be "sweeped" up? You know that saying, "Don't cry over spilt milk?" Well, milk gets spilt a lot at our house, by a certain independent, milk-loving three-year-old, and I always hear that saying and try to master my frustration. But I shall admit to you, to my embarrassment, that I have cried over spilt milk. Not today, though! I think it was the day that the brand-new, two-litre bottle of organic milk was poured into the chook pen.

And in other news of the day, Jimmy's latest fetish is to let his wee run over his hand whenever I take him to the toilet. Not too bad; it's only baby wee. But today he wet his hand then licked it. Still, not as bad as little Talila, who, to this day has eaten: a gecko's tail, a kitten's umbilical cord stump and various pet foods. I delight in her disgustingness!