When informed that we were out of ice cream cones, KO implored me to please go to the shops on my own tonight and buy some more.
He insisted he’d be fine on his own in the house … “Just for a little bit Mummy, … JUST . FOR . A . LITTLE . BIT!!”
Ummm … NO.
KO is snuggled against my shoulder, drifting off to sleep while watching Toy Story 2.
Any time a scary bit comes on he cries out, “NO! Let’s NEVER EVER watch this!”
What a darling.
KO woke up this morning, sat up and said, “Mummy! Someone’s in trouble outside! Someone’s stuck in a tree, in trouble outside!! …. And I can’t do it all by myself!…. All my dinosaur friends can help me!! They can help me on my own!! Violette’s stuck in a tree ….. Violette’s dragon stuck in a tree too …”
I said, “Did you have a dream, darling?”
And he said, “Yes.”
KO is going through a phase of calling me pet names beginning with “Mummy.”
Over the past few weeks I’ve been dubbed Mummy Dinosaur, Mummy Bee, Mummy Bobo, and Mummy Bear.
His latest one caught me by surprise though.
I’m now Mummy Grumpy Old Troll??!
Me to KO as he ladled bathwater into a plastic toy saucepan tonight: Nice! Are you cooking?
KO, without looking up or pausing: No, I’m NOT cooking.
Me: Oh … What are you doing?
KO (still without pausing or looking up): I’m putting water into this saucepan.