This is why I shouldn't be allowed out of the house with my kids

I have been 'photo tagged' by my good friend 39 and Counting and told to follow a set of rules that picks out one of my photos and then I'm charged with explaining it.

Hmm, how do I explain this?

First of all I should start by apologising to all the intellectuals who decided to spend a quiet afternoon in their local art gallery that day, only to be greeted by this sight!

The noise the children made was possibly as loud as their face paint.

Then we gave them E numbers to shut them up (in the guise of sweets).

So the photo is of my son Daniel, who was then 5, his wife Heather also 5, and 3-year-old Mia at the beautiful Birmingham Art Gallery on a day when Heather's mum and I decided we should get them out the house and do something 'interesting' and 'educational'.

In our defence, we had just visited an exhibition on 'myths and monsters' where they had their faces painted.

However, judging by the reactions of some of the museum visitors, they clearly just thought we were mad.

Well, they thought Heather's mum was mad because obviously I had slipped off to admire some artwork somewhere else and was totally pretending I wasn't with this weird crowd.

Of course, whenever there is a meme there are rules and they are these:

Go to the 4th folder in your computer where you store your pictures
Pick the 4th picture in that folder
Explain the picture
Tag 4 people to do the same.

So first of all I am tagging 2 people who are just the best fun I've had on Twitter:

Tracy at I Hate My Message Board (who has recently been posting photos of haggis on her blog, so lord only knows where this is going!)

Kool Aid (who has just discovered the word snog and now you can't shut her up!)

The next two are relatively new blogs I've been reading and really enjoying:

More Than Just A Mother (or MTJAM if you're lazy and overly familiar like me) and

Home Office Mum, because well, that's what I am aiming to be! Oh and she has a really exciting plan up her sleeve.

And if anyone else wants to take this tag up, go for it, it's actually kind of cathartic!

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Let's hear it for the dads!

Since starting a blog for the newspaper I was working on last year, I have read a LOT of blogs.

All in the name of research, you understand. It was my job to do it.

But then I left said job and set up a whole new blog and wouldn't you know it, I still really lots of blogs. More than ever.

And one thing I have found is that while there is a lot of praise, column inches and online groups dedicated to 'mummy bloggers', the dads are ferried into a corner and considered a bit of an afterthought.

So today I am bigging up the daddies.
I asked for your nominations and they've come in thick and fast.

I am actually friends with a couple of said daddies. And by friends I mean I beat them over the heads with so many emails and questions and please help mes until that they gave up and said 'oh go on then, I'll be your friend'.
But Blogger Dad and Clark Kent's Lunchbox I just HAD to befriend because they're both geeks (and that is actually a compliment to them) and Dave Fowler is just one of the nicest most genuine people I have met blogging. And I'm saying that without following it with any smart comments - there is a first time for everything.

So here are your nominations, in no particular order.
I'll try to introduce you to each one, then it's up to you to go visit and comment and spread a little love.
I know, I know, there's a lot of reading here. But save them for a rainy day or when you fancy introducing yourself to something new.

Please go visit and leave your comments.
Enjoy.

Teach My Children Well
Dave Fowler is a father of 4 who gave up work to bring his children up.
Big heart, big sense of humour, big . . . fun.
One of the best people to follow on Twitter if you like a bit of banter and if you ever get me and him posting comments together on your blog, all I can say is I'm really sorry.
Check out his post Women's Work: The Hardest Work I've Ever Done and try not to love him.

Blogger Dad

Quite a talent. Father to a cute little boy, writer, former journalist and cartoonist.
Has an amazing work ethic (I don't think the man actually sleeps) and just the nicest most patient person (if you could see the questions he's had to tolerate from me, you'd understand!).
Oh, and he's a Lost addict too, so big bonus points there!
His posts range from the thought provoking to the hilarious. The votes here have gone with the funny, so enjoy Men Are Better Shoppers (don't get TOO cross with him ladies).

Clark Kent's Lunchbox

How can you resist reading a blog with that title?
Clark Kent (aka Ron) is such a lovely lovely man. Father of five (3 boys and 2 step-daughters) he is just the most open and funny guy but has written some of the most touching posts (about depression and being away from his boys).

I've been reading his stuff for quite a while now and really you should go visit and take a poke around (he's all redesigned and everything).

But CK and I could fall out over one issue. He has a secret about George Clooney that he's not telling! And it's B U G G I N G me!

So here is the post that set it all off: Clooney & 1 Boston Creams.

Turf Dad

He once had a blog that no one could pronounce and I was handslapped for saying his profile picture made him look like a wierdo (it did!). But he morphed into Turf Dad - and he still looks like a wierdo. Kidding kidding.

One nominater said: "He's a man's man, tough on the outside but his obvious love for his children softens his edges. A great guy" and that sums him up perfectly.

Check out his post White Christmas about the day he brought his adopted daughter home after a stay in a residential treatment centre.

Don't Panic

Nick is a single dad in the south of England bringing up his quite frankly, very handsome teenage son.

I must admit this is a new blog to me but I went over and had a poke around and read The Dark Days and think I have a pretty good picture of him now.

Lovely lovely man blogging about the trials and tribulations of helping his son grow into adulthood.

Chasing Sanity

This is a relatively new one to me too. Derrick is, well a bit barmy to be fair. But in a nice way!
He rants about things like styrofoam cups (I know!) but then follows it with something like Parenting: Annoying or Beautiful when he totally shifts down a gear and talks about his children (and something we can all relate to: the child that won't sleep).
That header image is just perfect too!

Pacing The Panic Room

Ryan has an impossibly good looking family, he's a step-father to Littlest Buddy and his wife is with child (and yes, there are belly pictures all over the place!).

He has dreams of being a writer and a photographer and the description of his blog reads: "My wife gave me permission to write candidly and vividly about the building of our family. So this is what I did".

I haven't been reading for long, but I'll give you the first post I read that had me hooked: 16.

Irregular Periodic Ruminations

If you aren't intregued by the title of his blog, how about the fact that his moniker is Heinous?
A really fun read - although he can be serious when the mood takes him - he's very popular with the ladies. So many nominations! Maybe it's the hat . . .

The Mooch is one of the first post of his I read. It's about a neighbours child whose parents don't, well parent. Really funny, but totally heartbreaking.

Irish Gumbo

I stumbled on this blog one day and thought bloody hell, it's Max Headroom! That's his profile pic - how cool is that?

It's not Max Headroom, in fact he remains a bit of a mystery but what I can tell you is he's 40something, a dad and a self-professed geek. All good things.

His latest is something I'm sure all guys can relate to: Nicknames. You can call me anything you like: but my name is Turkey Sandwich Guy.

Us and Them

Captain Dumbass (ah yes, another name that makes you so want to hotfoot it over there and read) has a bit of a strange fetish with cheese people. And killing them. I could try to explain but it would just make me look a bit wierd when clearly it is he who is in need of help. So go look for yourself and judge.

In this one (Liam, First horseman of the Apocalypse) he turns his wrath on gingerbread men.

Writer Dad

For a touch of real class you really should check out Sean Platt who has such a beautiful writing style you need never buy a novel again.

He blogs about everything from the joy of Pixar movies (the post I first read which had me hooked) to blogging itself, but for me I think he particularly shines when he writes about his family.

In Tall Tall Man he writes about the memories our children are building. Just beautiful.

Bringing Up Charlie

Tim is a down-to-earth stay-at-home dad of two from the UK who used to be a teacher and is now a published author. He writes 3, count them, 3 blogs but is best loved for his tales of raising his son Charlie and daughter Sally.

In Tempus Fugit he writes about every parent's favourite time of day: The school run.

And here is a list of even more daddies that were nominated (I'm really really sorry you don't get some 'blurb' - it's just because I don't really know you all that well and it's now 11.40pm in the UK and I'm tired and I've got the school run in the morning.) I promise I promise to get to know you better.

Idiot's Stew

Brit Out of Water

Single Parent Dad

Norfolk Single Dad

Struggling Writer
GoodFather

And I saved the best blog title until the end The Wind in Your Vagina

These are all blogs nominated by YOU.

If you think I've missed anyone out just email me as soon as and I'll add it to the list.

Happy reading all.

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The great lunchbox debate

School dinners have become a massive talking point in the UK over recent years after popular TV chef Jamie Oliver launched a radical crusade to ban junk from all school kitchens.

It caused a massive furore.
Jamie spoke passionately about fresh, nutritious foods for our next generation. He visited schools to teach the children themselves the truth about the junk they were craving, he lobbied the government and he shouted as loud as he could to bring about a revolution.

He met children whose lunchbox consisted of two bags of crisps and a Mars Bar. He tried to turn around teens who only wanted chips with everything and he spoke of making it compulsary for all youngersters to be taught about how to prepare food and good eating habits.

He launched a manifesto which aimed to empower headteachers to make their school a junk free zone, invest in dinner ladies with proper training and he also wanted a long-term public campaign "to get people back on to a proper diet and empower/persuade (and possibly scare, if needed) the public to make better choices".

The jovial chef with two young girls of his own, was outspoken, totally determined and inspiring.

But it divided parents.
While some welcomed his words with open arms, others were outraged that someone should be telling their children what they could and could not eat.
In some episodes of the TV show which accompanied the campaign, parents were seen handing their youngsters bags of fish and chips from the local chippy through the school gates at lunchtime because they could no longer obtain chips in school.

As a result of the campaign, the government pledged to make school dinners healthier -but at a cost. Uptake of the new improved school dinners has dropped significantly.

My 6-year-old son has school dinners and they are good healthy meals and a reasonable price. He enjoys the likes of roast dinners, bolognese or pasta bakes.
He loves them. It is what he is used to at home as I am trying to bring him up to understand good nutrition and why he needs to keep a balanced diet and that he can have treats, but he must eat the 'good stuff' first.

He helps me in the kitchen, he knows what a pepper and a mango is and we've made dinner time a family affair.
Hopefully, when he hits his teens and then moves into adulthood, he will be equipped with the knowledge to make the right choices for himself.

So I was really interested to read a debate about whether certain foods should be banned from your child's school lunchbox over at the Times' SchoolGate blog.

A mum is upset because she was 'named and shamed' by her child's teacher for sending her son to school with chocolate spread sandwiches and they are asking the question should teachers get involved in what you pack for their lunch every day or have we gone healthy eating mad and this is just "teachers just flexing their muscles and showing us that in school, they're the boss!"

I would be really interested to hear your views.

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I love daddies (so let's big up their blogs!)

This week Alpha Mummy (The Times online) is running a blogging carnival, celebrating the best of British mummy bloggers.

They are a great idea as it means you get to discover a bunch of new bloggers you maybe haven't come across before and it's like one big group hug of mums.

But what about the dads?
Are they not just as deserving?

Well yes actually, I think they are. So in honour of all those daddy bloggers out there - and I read quite a few - I am having a day to showcase your work. And not just daddies from the UK, I'm showcasing the globe here!


Also if you know of a great daddy post that you want to nominate, that's fine too - it's time to suck up to the ladies guys!

So here's how it's going to work:
Send me a link to your best post. It can be the most popular, your personal favourite, one you think didn't get a big enough audience, whatever.

Get them to me by the end of Saturday (January 24) and then I'll showcase the lot of you in all your glory for all to see and explore.


Send your post links to taralara@washy1.force9.co.uk.

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Reasons why raising a girl can send you mad. Number 1

My good friend Suzanne has a gorgeous little girl with long blonde hair and the cutest little 'aren't I just darling' face.
And while, yes, she is a darling it's an angelic face that hides hell.

For that little girl is not yet 3 and yet my friend swears to me SWEARS that she will not be having another child.

Some girls, I maintain, are just bloody hard work!

Suzanne and I used to work together and would indulge in a spot of 'bad child' poker.
For every eardrum-splitting tantrum her daughter had, I'd raise her an embarassed me in the supermarket by yelling 'oi, lady' to all the shoppers.
For all her cheek-burning incidents of hitting another child, I'd throw down a 'Mia has hacked her own hair off'. Or the fact that she has a fatal attraction to scissors and can sniff a pair out in this house like a prize pig tracking down truffles. She's pretty good at hunting down truffles too. The chocolate variety, obviously.

I thought I had her beat when Mia managed to break her own bed then draw all over her newly decorated walls and call her daddy an idiot - all in the space of one morning.

But oh boy, Suzanne has pulled one out of the bag and it's a doozy!

While staying at a friend's house over Christmas, her little darling was put to bed in the spare room.
They sat with their friends in the living room, listening to her rustling and moving around on the monitor but just put it down to her settling herself for bed.

So, a few minutes later Suzanne goes up to check all is OK.
And there that little madam is sat on the bed with two pots in her hands - the one a near empty tub of the homeowners VERY EXPENSIVE CELLULITE cream and the contents are all over her head. Up her nose. In her hair. Her long hair.

Suzanne cleans her up the best she can, apologises profusely to her friend and goes to bed cursing (but thinking, oh boy I'll have Tara with this one!)

The next morning she realises what was in the other tub her daughter was clutching that fateful night - it was fake tanning cream!

FAKE TANNING CREAM.
Yes, I said fake tanning cream!

The Oompa Loompa look is not one that particularly suits a 2-year-old very blonde child and Suzanne can only apologise for anyone who has caught sight of her daughter and been horrified by the results.

Suzanne 1, Tara 0

PS: I would just like to point out that even though my little girl is a quite a handful at times, she is also absolutely gorgeous. And I know that she is going to grow into the most wonderful young woman, all feisty and independent and the sort of person that makes a mama proud.
Until then, I'll just keep up my usual chant 'it's only a phase'.

Writer Dad had some wonderful words to say for his own little Mia's 7th birthday recently. I should just like to say ditto.

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A rant: The update!

I am having a good old moan today over at Blog To Fit about clothes sizing.

HOW do shops manage to get it so wrong? If I am a size 14 I want to buy size 14 - not to be made to feel HUGE because I can't get your jeans over my seriously not gargantuan thighs.

Aren't sizes supposed to be universal? Or do individual shops now have their own idea of what the dress sizes should be?

And if you are above a size 12, you're likely to have curves. They know all this, right?

If you've ever been made to feel like a freak in a clothing store changing room, join in the debate/shouting match!

A NOTE:

You know when you write something and the comments end up being better than the actual post you wrote in the first place?

Well, that's happened and after throwing a hissy fit and thumping my fists on the table and being a general diva about it, I thought it's actually kinda cool.

So I'm posting a couple of them here because, well, they have been just brilliant.

Thank you ladies for joining in the mass rant - you guys are just fabulous!

"Try a Small tank top on from a store like Hot Topic, where I shopped with my daughter recently. My left tit wouldn’t fit in it."

Betsy Wuebker

"If I thought shoving the cheeky monkeys back in would make me thin again I would It is clearly their fault as I was thin before I had them!"

Melanie

"We were having this conversation (sort of) at the school gate the other day. About how you’re not really a 12 but you’re not really a 14 and if only they did half sizes. And then we had the brainwave - make trousers like they do for kids with adjustable elastics at the waistline."

Home Office Mum

"I hold up a size 4 and just laugh. Who fits into that? A tiny, shriveled grandma?"

Jaci

"Frequently I try to pants on, hex the store under my breath and leave vowing never to buy pants again."

Cardio Girl

"Am going to knit myself an outfit that actually fits and doesn’t have to have the size label cut off so I don’t feel the shame burning through my tights!"

Mom/Mum

"As soon as my children get past the age where they lift up my skirts in public and try to hide in them, I am wearing nothing but flowy calf length skirts and v neck tees for the rest of my life."

Tracy

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Kissing boys: The rules. And some bling

Friday was not a good day for mummy - my 6-year-old son told me he had 'rules' for when he will kiss me at the school gate.

Rules? There are rules? Why don't you just kick me in the teeth while I'm down there son?

Apparently he will kiss me, but only if it's round the corner (basically so his friends can't see) and it can't be 'one of those ones where you hold my face and kiss me on the lips' and 'don't shout I love you as I walk away'. And I'm not allowed to blow kisses from the fence where I can see him run to his classroom. He will wave, but it will only be one of those low key ones where his hand is just at hip level so as not to rouse comment.

Oh.

I am crushed.

I think he sensed something though when I picked him up later that day and he sat there in the back of the car all quiet for a moment fiddling with his bookbag and quietly humming to himself, then he said "mummy, you're so pretty. You really are the best mummy you know".

Then he's all quiet again for a few seconds and then announces: "I'm going to give you such an I've-missed-you cuddle when we get home."

I'll forgo those schoolgate kisses any day for an I've-missed-you cuddle.

Also cheering me up no end this month have been the really kind fellow bloggers bestowing awards on me in a shower of loveliness!

Really you guys, I never tire of it and I am always so very grateful.

First off all there was this one from Working Mum on the Verge (which, I am ashamed to say, was **whisper it** handed out last year).

I'm not normally this rubbish, Working Mum. I promise I'll do better (she's a teacher and brings out the little girl in me who feels like she's not handed in her homework on time and needs to make excuses/explain why!)

Anyway, I'm supposed to pass it on to I don't know, a million other blogs, but in keeping with the school theme I'm going to rebel and break the rules.

I am passing this Blog of Distinction on to Vodka Mum who at the tail end of last week posted an amazing speech she wrote a couple of years ago.

Go read her blog. Sure she has about a thousand comments but trust me, she is soooo down to earth, so approachable and will make you look at teachers in a whole new light!

Next up is this award given to me by notSupermum and A Confused Take That Fan AND 39 and Counting.

Oh. My. Goodness.

That's three very different, very sane people saying, and I quote:

Blogs who receive this award are 'exceedingly charming'.

This award is a fine one because it focuses not on the glory and fanfare of blogging, but in the PROXIMITY to one another through this online-world.

This blog invests and believes in the PROXIMITY--nearness in space, time and relationships. These blogs are exceedingly charming.

These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement!

Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers!

I am now supposed to deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this clever-written text into into the body of their award and blah blah blah.
As ever, I don't stick to the rules. So in the spirit of fostering new friendships, I am passing this on to 3 new bloggers I have met recently and enjoyed and think are deserving.

Maybe you could all go say hello too.

Laura at Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy? who met her hubby online 9 years ago (you see, so there is a good reason to spend your life in front of the computer screen) and has an addiction to Green & Blacks chocolate, so she fits in very nicely!

More than Just a Mother who I only stumbled across on Friday so it may come as bit of a shock having me throwing things at her but she negotiates life with a triple buggy and uses words like Fan-bloody-tastic and botheration which totally hooked me in.
She's only just started blogging but I highly recommend a visit - she's funny, charming and will break your heart. Really, go read.

Avlor at Fox Downs because she's just lovely and because she has very good taste in men, although if she tries to elbow her way in on Hugh Jackman again I may have to reconsider! Oh and she's a Wii addict too. And she's also just a little bit geeky, which she will know is a pretty high compliment in my book.

And finally, as we're talking about friendship, I would just like to give a mention to my two good buddies at my other home Blog To Fit, Dave Fowler and David Wright.
I'm not giving you guys awards because, well you get enough from me (hmm that didn't come out right did it!), but just to say on a very public platform, you guys are aces and I absolutely love working in our cyber office.
But if you could step up the tea making quota that would be just grand.

Oh and one more little thing.
I visited DJ Kirby's blog for the first time and got this. And I wasn't even trying!

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Money

When is it a good time to teach your children about money?

Along with many, many people around the globe, we have had to tighten our belts.

Christmas was rather more low key this year, 'luxuries' are out of the shopping basket and hubby and I very rarely eat a meal out.

To be truthful, it's been an eye opener. I have enjoyed not frittering money on 'stuff'. It has actually served to make me quite ashamed of the la-de-da way we almost threw cash around in the 'good times'.

Household bills are sometimes a struggle so we try to be as energy efficient as possible.
Car fuel bills are rising, so we try to walk as often as we can.
And even though is really stretches us, we try to save.

And yet in the midst of this monetary maelstrom, we have decided to start giving our 6-year-old pocket money.

As a parent I think it is imperative that I teach my children to be cash wise.

I see so many young people leave their seat of learning and head off into a life of work - in debt.

Imagine that? In debt before you've even clutched your first payslip to your chest?

I do not want that for my children. I want them to understand that you can have the good things in life, but you need to be responsible with money first and then the rewards will follow.

Sure credit seems exciting and instant and boy wouldn't it be great to bring that huge TV home right now, today, no waiting, no paying out?

But you do pay out in the end. And what's wrong with waiting anyway and getting that buzz of satisfaction that you've saved up for this wonderful thing?

And then maybe, by the time you've saved up for it, you'll have had time to think and actually you don't want that big TV you want something else and buying that TV would have been a big waste of money.

So, on his sixth birthday, we told Daniel he would start receiving pocket money - £2 a week.

BUT mummy and daddy would no longer be treating him to the 'little things'. If he wants anything - new book, stickers, a magazine, chocolate - he has to buy it himself.

And he has been brilliant with it. It has really made numbers come to life for him as he works out how much he will have if he saves for a year and what he could buy with it and how much more he will have than mummy and daddy (which is already climbing as he had some money from relatives for his birthday too!)

Of course, there is always the danger that it will be thrown away on junk that will last all of 2 days before it falls apart/gets lost/falls out of favour.

But those are lessons he has to learn too.

However, like most of us, money was burning holes in his pocket, so he has made his first purchase.

That rather magnificent model at the top of the page? That is a character from Star Wars (oh how he loves Star Wars) called Boba Fett and it's crafted from nuts and bolts and bits of machinery and chains and suchlike and we stumbled on him at a stall in town recently.

Dan fell in love with it.

He asked the stall holder how much it was: £40 - rather a lot for a little boy.

Will I still be able to buy the marbles I wanted, Dan asks me. Will I have enough left over? I say I'm not sure but he is determined to buy that model so he rifles through his wallet, counting out his money.

The stall holder is clearly impressed and is smiling a big warm smile in my son's direction.

"Is this your own money son?" he asks him and Dan silently nods his head, still counting out his notes and coins.

So the stall holder says: "I tell you what, how about I knock it down to £35 so you have some left over to buy those marbles?"

Dan came away with both his model and his marbles that day, and I came away with a great feeling of pride and achievment and a restored faith that, especially in bad times, the kindness of strangers is the greatest wealth of all.

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Wordless Wednesday: Girlification

My daughter is not a 'girlie girl'.

She thinks she's a 6-year-old boy like her older brother and looks at me all horrified like I'm asking her to roll on broken glass when I suggest she wears a dress.
Someone bought her some Disney Princess book for Christmas and she's scribbled on most of their picture perfect faces, like she's censoring them or doing her own brand of airbrushing.
Princesses are not her thing.

But today, today she discovered bunches and I've never been more proud.

She actually asked me to 'do my hair like yours mummy' (Ok ok, I know, I'm 40 for god's sake, I shouldn't be wearing bunches, but shoot me why don't you).

Of course, later on she tore them out so she could get her Batman mask on over her head.
But still, it's a start.

Hmm, it turns out not so wordless after all . . .

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How to torture mummy

My children will do anything
A N Y T H I N G to get me out of bed in the morning.

There is no low they will not sink to in order to stop me hiding under the duvet for another 5 minutes.

Their latest double act is to slam their bedroom doors (I've told them that when they wake they can play in each other's rooms).
Sure they do that just beautifully. They build dens with their duvets, they read, they make up stories, they play marbles). But the door slamming? Never just two doors. It's like they are in and out at least 15 times, and every slam shakes the house and my nerves just that little bit closer to growling.

And I am absolutely a morning person.

They've done the crawling under our bed commando style and whispering and giggling. When that didn't work they then resorted taking 'pokey pokey' things under there with them to push between the bed slats (usually a lightsabre or a plastic golf club. Or their toothbrushes).

They've done the coming in all quietly and lulling me into a false sense of security by whispering 'when is it wakey wakey time, mummy?' and I mumble something back and they whisper a return. Then one of them climbs on the bed for a cuddle. Then the other one keeps me distracted with more whispered questions and before I know it, they're both on the bed, cold feet on my thighs, snotty nose heading towards me for a kiss and I'm shocked into wakefulness.

Hubby sleeps on like he's been betwitched.

I suppose I should be proud of their cunning and ingenuity.

I mean for a 6-year-old and a 3-year-old to come up with such devious plans, is quite commendable - and yes I will commend them, in maybe 8 or 9 years time when I'm trying to drag them out of their own beds and I'm using all their little tricks right back at them.

But this morning my little girl overstepped the mark.

Her opening words were designed to have me shoot out of bed without so much as touching the floor.

"Mummy," she whispers in her sweetest voice. "I've got something stuck right down in my ear."

Hells bells. I lept out of my bed and out of my skin, and ferried her straight into the bathroom without barely drawing breath.

This is not something you can take a chance on right?

So I'm trying to focus my barely awake eyes down her tiny ear canal and then with a pair of tweezers, I'm delicately trying to grab at the pitch dark air just inside in the hope that whatever it is that is in there isn't too far down.

Then she whispers: "Mummy. Mummy. This one really worked didn't it?"

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I love you, but

Dan: "I wish I had a mobile phone. Maybe I'll be able to have one when I'm about 15 or 16."

Grandma: "Well I tell you what, if I'm still around then, I'll buy you one."

Dan: "Well if you're not, I'm sure someone else will."

Pause.

Dan: "And anyway, heaven is really good grandma" (said with great authority).

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