Little Fish and Ella Bella

Little Fish has a new interest. Meet her "Ella Bella". It took me a while to work out what she meant, so she dug through the cupboard until she found one.
And now it travels everywhere with her. "Bit cold Mummy, take Ella Bella on a walk".

Little Fish has taken to whizzing up to me and saying "I not liking you Mummy" and then going away again. This is surprisingly upsetting. She has now amended this. After several "I not like you Mummy"s, she now comes back with her head tilted to one side and says "I don't like you Mummy...I LOVE you!" Rather sweetly, she has now taken to watching me doing the washing up and then saying "Thank you Mummy, you tidy up for me."

I do tidy up for her. A lot. Too much. This morning, we made chocolate truffles. Then we cooked lunch. And then I started looking for my Christmas Tablecloth. It was inevitably invisible, as were all my other tablecloths. I don't know whether to be annoyed with myself for losing them yet again, or pleased with myself for managing to run this oneup in a matter of minutes before our lunch guests turned up. It is a remnant which was going to make Christmas Aprons; perhaps next year if it doesn't end up in that mysterious seasonal items black hole.

A nice lunch (leg of lamb for anyone interested), a lazy afternoon, and then time to tidy up. So as I began to tackle the washing up mountain (really must get that dishwasher replaced), Little Fish decided to tidy up the remains of the chocolate sauce. Perhaps not the most balanced meal, but for Sunday tea after an enormous lunch, probably not dreadful either.

Special treat, she took it into the playroom to eat whilst watching the Teletubbies. The Teletubbies were making messes and muddles and spilling their Tubby Custard. This is possibly not the best programme for Little Fish to be watching. I heard her chattering away but stupidly tuned her out.

And then walked in to find that she had been doing some cooking of her own. Take one big bowl of chocolate pudding, and one small plate to eat it from. When your mother isn't looking, smuggle one of the other leftovers from lunch onto the piano stool.

Stir. Pea Pudding anyone?

I looked at her, she looked at me. I sighed and went to fetch a cloth, she wiped her fingers and then said "I bit tired now. Bit manky, you bath me I go to bed". Who was I to argue with that? At least Ella Bella had the sense to stay out of it.

Tia