Identity

A couple of recent conversations with the boys.

INC: Do you know something, Cherub? I think you're gorgeous

Cherub: Noooooooooo

INC: Yes you are. You're gorgeous.

Cherub. Nooooooo. Cheeky boy, actually.

And then there was my attempt to explain to Bundle why, whilst grateful for the offer, I was not going along with his suggestion that he could carry some ridiculously heavy item up the stairs for me (I think it was our large metal tool kit). It went like this:

Bundle: But why can't I carry it

INC: I wouldn't want you to drop it on your toes. It would hurt. You would say "oooo ouch. My toes" I don't want you to have to say "oooooo ouch"

Bundle: Seals do that sometimes.





So, one child has picked up the bizarre notion that his incessant cheekiness makes him less gorgeous, not more, which is not an idea he could possibly have got from his parents, and the other one thinks my impression of a toddler with a sore toe sounds confusingly similar to my impression of a seal.

Ever get the feeling that if the results of your parenting match your intentions it is more or less entirely a happy coincidence? I do.