This morning Mr. Waffle left for work considerably before dawn and the Princess and I got ourselves out of the house on our own somewhat later.
She woke at 7.45 and I collected her from her bed.
“Would you like some porridge?”
“No”
“Will I open the zip on your sleeping bag?”
“No”
“Come on now, we’ll get up and have some breakfast”
“No, no bekast”
“OK, let’s change your nappy.”
“No, no, no! Pas changer, no nappy. Howl”
“OK, let’s just go have some porridge”
“No, down. DOWN”
Put child on floor.
“Cole”
“Will we put on your socks then sweetheart?”
“No, no sock”
We struggle through breakfast (no porridge, no porridge), my shower (no shower Mummy, no shower Mummy), dressing (rigourously folded arms while running about the room to evade capture) and leave the house.
“Will we go to the creche darling?”
“No. No creche.”
“We’ll see M”
“Yes M”
Remember it is M’s day off. “Actually, no, not today”
“No M?” Lusty sobs.
Arrive at creche after only one near miss (“exciting Mummy, again”). Deposit child. Weeping and gnashing of teeth “No mummy, no, no. Hop hop?” Realise Hop hop has been left in the car. Rescue Hop hop. Return to creche, child is playing happily. She catches sight of me and prostrates herself on the floor “No, mama, no, no,” she says reaching out her chubby little arms. I detach myself and depart. Very traumatic all round. I arrived at the office in a state of advanced exhaustion and had a relaxing day of meetings to recover.