... but I'm telling you now, that boy's no stranger to drawing on walls. Or fridges. And occasionally soft furnishings.
But whilst Toby's art is more abstract expressionism (and basic scribbling), Amelie is currently maintaining the neanderthal tradition by documenting our lives with pen and paper. Which is what the cavemen would have done if they'd had access to Blu-tac.
So having witnessed her father braving the vicious crowds of sabre-toothed shoppers at Asda yesterday morning in an effort to bring home the bacon and provide for his family, Amelie has produced this pictorial evidence of my adventures...
Obviously she forgot to draw me, but other than that, it's entirely accurate. On the left we have the entrance and exit, complete with checkout manned by a bloke who appears to be trapped in some kind of time-warp between an Elizabethan ruff and a chip & pin machine, whilst on the right we have the various aisles. Spelt phonetically as 'il's. Our shopping trip consisted of the toy aisle, the sweet aisle and the drinks aisle, which between them provide everything you need to survive family life. Although when I first saw the picture, I misread that last one, and thought she'd grassed me up for buying Pringles.
The one thing we didn't buy yesterday was clothes, but that was because Lisa had already splashed out on a new dress for our six-year-old daughter...
She got that from Next. And it's for age 10. I've checked our family tree for evidence of gigantism, but concluded that we've just been feeding her too much.
Still, as long as we can avoid shrinkage due to excessive moisture exposure, it should last her until she's seven...
Or possibly until next week.
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