February 10, 2008

A Tall Tale

We went to the land of long-legged lovelies on Friday: London if you’re wondering. I can’t say I’ve really noticed how tall people have got until now.
Is it like when you reach a certain age and you think anyone dressed in a police uniform looks as though they should be in school ... You reach a certain height but then realise you need stilts?!

We went to Camden and while I did my thing at the office of Spirit and Destiny magazine Mick strolled about looking for beautiful things to buy me. That might not have been his original idea but that was the end result. The plan had been to meet up when I’d finished and we’d go to see Sweeny Todd at Leicester Square. However, I had a complete blissful Goth moment in the market so Johnny will have to wait until another day.
It is a fantastic place full of vibrancy and colour. All styles of everything. It is a shame that a lump of it has burnt down. All those livelihoods. It must be very stressful for people.

Vinnie is 20 months old and has quite a repertoire of words. He can ask for most things, sings a lot, can name his body parts, understands yes and no and knows who we all are.
One of his favourite words at the moment is ‘help’. He uses this at times such as having a nappy changed or when it is time to leave somewhere, the ball park for example.

The other day Charlie, Vinnie and I went to the shops. She wandered off to New Look and left me with Vinnie, supermarket trolley and all the bags of shopping. Please note we are good at it. There were lots.
Without warning or provocation Vinnie decided he was in a situation that required immediate aid so he started calling for help. Not in a gentle funny baby chat sort of way. Oh no. In a clear perfectly formed, “Help! Help! Help!” way with each new request being louder than the previous one.

Charlie’s phone was apparently out of signal to receive my screams for help. Yeah right. A likely tale.

Aren’t small children a delight?

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