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Sunday, November 30, 2014

The literary critic, Cyril Connolly, once wrote that "There is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall". Presumably he kept his felt-tips by the front door and couldn't squeeze past. But to be honest, he had a point. I've already accepted that my new job means working an extra hour a day, unpaid, just to get the work done, which means that by the time the weekend comes around, I've seen so little of the children that I've forgotten what a nightmare they are, and want to spend two days with them. Which is not conducive to a productive literary career. I think this is why people write children's books. It's the only way of doing both.

Anyhoo, my blogging opportunities might be limited, but one person who's still capable of producing good art is Amelie's school photographer. We've just received the first photo of Year 1...


It's a definite improvement on last year...


I think she's grown out of that slightly crazed, fruit-loop expression, and passed it on to her brother...


That's Toby enjoying a nutritious lunch of hot dogs and white bread. He'd cleared his plate of vegetables by the time I took the photo.

No, really.

Anyhoo, this afternoon Amelie will be taking part in a musical theatre performance of Peter Pan. She's currently suffering from a heavy cold, so she sounds a bit like Ed Miliband, but fortunately she has a lot more charisma, which should hopefully carry her through. I took her and the lost boy down to the marina yesterday morning to kick off some method acting by looking for pirates, after which we all headed over to Hove for the dress rehearsal.

With Amelie safely deposited at Neverland, Lisa and I took Toby down the road to the nearest park for two hours of running, climbing, sliding and making friends with gangs of small children. Him, not us. Despite not having had his lunchtime nap, he kept up the pace all afternoon...


... and when the sun came down, and the rest of the world had gone home, he was still refusing to leave...


But sadly for Toby, his parents had to be somewhere else, and it was vital we weren't late. So as the temperature dropped and the moon rose, we dragged him off to Caffè Nero for a bit of spooning...


Toby's just out of shot, fiddling while Lisa burns the roof of her mouth.

4 comments:

Phil's Mum said...

Along with her hair, Amelie's grown up SO much in that last year!

David East said...

Ah, the happy carefree days on the Shotley Penninsular (sic) when you blogged every day...

Phil said...

It's a distant memory, Dave...

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