For the last hour or so I’ve been chuckling to myself at the mummy magpie terrorizing all the cats on the street, protecting her baby from their breakfast bowls. Whatever else, she’s showing an amazing amount of kick ass kung fu skills for this time of the morning.
I imagine that she is spewing the kind of expletives most people reserve for road rage and traffic jams in heatwaves. The cats certainly give up before she does. What an epic mama. Being woken up by a bird being more ferocious than a mama tiger should grate on my nerves… the noise being loud and repetitive… yet amusingly it doesn’t.
So I’m lay there in my bed, enjoying the little bit of “me” time that happens before the little people rise from their slumbers.
Enter stage left a blanket with eyelashes, aka my son, the Smallest Mumbler, and flops into the cushion he’s clearly prepared for himself without me noticing. Clever dude. The eyelashes frame those beautiful, not-quite awake, distance gazing eyes. They blink. I wish my son good morning… he raises an eyebrow quizzically.
We have a lovely conversation about the ‘Piderman dweem he “got in his head”… and talked about his ‘piderman costume and ‘piderman ‘ jarmas…. even his ‘piderman “knifenfawk”.
This latest obsession is fun.
I never really got into comic books or superheroes as a child and I’m loving the fact that I can legitimately explore them with my boy now. The Evian advert is on our YouTube Favourites along with Volvo Live Test 6. Seriously, this kid knows epic when he sees it. There are over 15 million views of the Evian Spiderman advert on youtube at the time of writing this post. At least 10 of those millions simply have to be from my account. LOL.
Suddenly he gets up and wanders over to the yarn drawers (yep they’re everywhere in my house, even my bedroom) gazing at the array of colours before him before swiping some Tigger Orange and sat, still not quite awake, hugging it. THIS kind of behaviour makes me laugh. He really is almost more of a yarn addict than I am.
He says: “Gotta go downstairs. Make stuff. Comeon Mummy, GEDDUP.”
me: “What are we going to make?”
him: Orange fings. Downstairs. Comeon.
me: “OK…. Do you want Mummy to make things or you?”
him: “Me. Orange fings. Downstairs. Make a brew. Nice.”
me: “So are you making a blanket or a toy?”
him: *hugging yarn* awwww. Squishy. Nice. Like Tigger BOUNCE! BOUNCE! BOUNCE!
He’s the kind of boy who has a scuff on every one of his corners. His knees are scabby. His legs are covered in bruises in a myriad of rainbow colours from “being a digger” and shunting the toys around my garden, more often than not bulldozing over them. The kind of boy whose fingernails remain slightly grubby no matter how hard you scrub. It’s unusual to see him without a black eye and I’m pretty impressed he still has all his teeth.
In other words, he’s a “proper” boy who knows how to play hard and earns his 12 hour sleep every night. And here he is, holding to his chest the OTHER love in his life. Yarn. Seems kinda wrong. Don’t care.
I am endlessly amused by this. He might be a miniature version of his Daddy, who thinks that living with yarn is the punishment for every slightly bad thing he ever did, but that inner yarn whore my boy’s cultivating over there by my stash drawers?
He skips to the door clutching the yarn giggling and singing in his totally awesome diabolically tuneless way “I’m the only one! Blanket! Blanket! Make orange fings like Tigger! Watch ‘Piderman on TV!!!”
I’ve got to say that sounds like a brilliant plan. One my darling 2 year old bundle of boy-shaped awesome came up with all by himself. Talking to two year olds really takes away the B.S that the adult world bogs you down with. Little people are epic.
There have got to be at least 40 things right with today already. And I’m grateful for every single one.
It’s 7.30 am, and Smallest Mumbler is choosing breakfast..
We’re having jelly with Haribo sweeties on top. “Wif a ‘piderman fpoon.”