I was reading a story to the boys this evening in which a character was left unconscious. This led to the following exchange.
Michael: What’s “knocked out”?
Daniel: I know, I know, I know.
Michael: What?
Daniel: It’s when you fall down like this [collapses on bed] and sort of go to sleep.
Michael: What?
Daniel: Like France did to Ireland in the world cup when it put out its hand and knocked us out.
This morning Mr. Waffle rose at 5. He did some work, sent it off to the lucky client, made brown bread for the family breakfast and disposed of the remains of a small mouse which Hodge left lovingly at his feet.
I have paid an efficient man to update my blog. You can have no idea how happy this makes me. Inept, perhaps, but happy. Also, it now shows people who linked to me. If I didn’t do your meme, I’m sorry, I just never knew. A vast new universe yawns before me, lads.
Daniel is just on the verge of reading. The other day he read his first words cold and completely unaided, they were “no disc” followed shortly by “play all”.
From Saturday’s paper:
“Since the advent of digital cameras and camera phones we’ve all been snapping away to our heart’s content. But who actually tidies up, prints out, stores and captions this plethora of images? Unless you’re frighteningly anal-retentive, or have shockingly little to do, the chances are that your digital photos languish in your computer in an unloved and untended electronic heap.”
So if I have, tidied up, printed out, stored and captioned my pictures and do not have shockingly little to do, what is it that the IT is implying about me?
Me: Did you read that terrific article on procrastination in the NYT?
Him: No, I haven’t got around to it yet.