Two weeks ago, when Amelie first came home with a tadpole in a white plastic cup and suggested that we do our bit for amphibian fostering by raising it to adulthood, I felt the whole plan might be slightly crazy. But actually, I think this idea's got legs...

Two of them, in fact. I'm now keeping it in a Jacob's 'Biscuits for Cheese' box, partly because that tadpole's grown up with plastic, and it's the only thing which makes him feel at home, but mainly because Lisa thinks I'm crackers. She asks me on a daily basis when I'm taking it back to the park. Which shows how much her attitude has softened, as she's no longer talking about flushing it down the toilet. I think she secretly loves that tadpole.

Anyhoo, the answer to Lisa's question is that the tadpole can find his own way back to the park once he's big enough to jump out of the box. It's every parent's goal to raise a child who can stand on his own two feet, and we're definitely getting there with this one. I've taken the advice of an expert, and started letting him suck blood out of dead meat, which is pleasing Lisa no end, particularly as I bought some which was reduced at Asda due to being close to its use-by date, which means it's now festering at the back of the fridge. One tadpole doesn't get through half a pound of meat as quickly as you might think.

So despite the fact that our flower garden hasn't yet germinated, I think we're doing pretty well on the life-preserving front. And I include my own life in that statement. I've not been feeling too well for the past couple of days (men's problems - don't ask), but having honed her caring skills on a frog larva, Amelie's shown a remarkable level of compassion.

I left work a bit early yesterday, and let Amelie use the computer while I did my best to avoid death on the sofa. She was beavering away on her own, playing (I thought) a game on the CBeebies website, at which point she asked me if I'd turn on the printer without looking at the screen. Naturally I thought she printing out hardcore porn from the internet, but when she added that she was doing something for me, I decided to take a chance and do it.

Thirty seconds later, the printer was whirring into action, and Amelie was rooting around in my stationery drawer for an envelope. Having found one, she asked me if she could go outside on her own, before adding "I won't go down the stairs or in the lift".

Frankly I wouldn't mind if she did, but I agreed to her conditions, and before long she was unlocking the front door and removing the chain. Which is a skill that always makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. She then shoved her secret envelope through the letterbox from the outside, and ran into the flat to tell me there was some post for me.

When I opened the envelope I found this...

She did that all by herself on the computer, which is not only impressive and heartwarming, but suggests that she knows more about desktop publishing than I do. It's also good news for our bank balance, as graphic designers can earn a fortune. On the down side, however, she's likely to lose all her money to burglars. We discovered at 11pm last night that she'd left the front door unlocked.