The Seagull, chicken free, now with eagle vision.

21 Jan

Proving that jumping to conclusions is my sole form of aerobic exercise, the ‘gull’s spots disappeared overnight. She seems a bit better today and the clamminess and fever have left her.

While playing yesterday in the rain, I grabbed a packet from the kiddie stash that holds all the hidden tools that toddlers covet: some textas, a pair of scissors and a paintbrush. By hidden, I mean “on a really high shelf”. To the ‘gull this means “invisible bounty of forbidden delights protected by wild dogs, laser perimeter, retinal scans and shrieking bells”.

It only took a minute for her to observe and commit to memory before I gave her a paintbrush to paint the rainwater. The next day upon waking, she asked for “the special crayons”. Before she had even drank a bottle or finished her morning nappy change – and lord knows Judy Garland requires a bottle and ensemble change upon rising quicker than I need my morning smoke.

So, I gave her the textas and we drew pictures and listened to the Ramones, a way more people should spend their Sunday.

And then it began again.

Head downwards, eyes shifting to the right, she asked me for the scissors. She dropped it after 5 requests. The requests started up 30 minutes later. As a beacon of parental restraint, I naturally gave in for five minutes of super happy fun snip snippo.

Sure, she can’t remember her phone number, her abc’s or my ATM pin number but secret toddler stash and how to unlock the balcony doors? Totally sorted.

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