Apocalypse and the Mexican Wave

There’s something to be said for an early rising 9 year old, who is resigned to the fact that the BBC news is on TV until 7.29am, and then Bliss!  The new Pokémon episode can be watched, enjoyed and re enacted throughout the day with an assortment of soft toys and siblings.  However, yesterday he was caught up in the news of apocalyptic disaster.  Pokémon could wait (until the replay an hour later).  Pad was beside himself.  Enter, side left, concerned and reassuring parent.  “Of course the world was not going to end”.  “No, the elderly man on the television was not a psychic and couldn’t predict the end of the world”.  “Yes, Mummy did really say that the gentleman should be shot for scaremongering”; “No Mum didn’t really mean to say shot, because that would be bad - just really, really told off”!  Tears wiped away by mum, snot wiped away by sleeve of Pad and all was calm.  One sniff later - “Dr Who is on at 6.45pm, and if the world ends at 6pm I would miss it”

I love my kids priorities.

Like today, I wanted to bring in the washing.  Fabulous warm and windy day and all three of their dressing gowns were on the clothes line.  Throw away remark over lunch about bringing washing in was met by three “No’s”.  Apparently, when the wind caught them just right, it looked like an upside down Mexican wave.  No answer to that – suffice to say, washing was left hanging until slightly damp at dusk.