Anyone care to explain how one small child can eat her own bodyweight in pizza with no I'll effects and yet choke on pasta, gag at the sight of a bread crust, and refuse to allow anything green within three inches of her face? How can h
she retch on a banana milkshake (tubed) and have space for slice after slice of garlic bread? And why are cheese and ham on a plate something to cry about but cheese and ham on a pizza something to celebrate?
Do Dominos make cauliflour and courgette pizzas? Oh, and why is pizza in a box from a man at the door her favourite and her best, but pizza from my fair hands and pizza from the freezer both objectionable?
Readers, we ate the pizza.
Long day today. Up early, and for once LF consented to eat her breakfast (1/2 a slice of toast) in somewhat less than 30 minutes. Smart clothes all round; matching dresses for the girls to LF's delight and Mog's displeasure. All dressed, hair brushed without tears for once, polished shoes, ironed tops, and a reasonably clean house too.
Off to church where for once we managed to be early. Girls delivered to their various spots and I to my semi regular slot into the next-but-one-to-the-back-of-the-rows-in-front-of-the-door aisle seat. It's a comfortably safe spot. Close to the exit if needed by crying child. Or if the church should suddenly burn down; an unlikely prospect but important to be prepared
And then the service started, and I put my hand up to my collar, to loosen off my tshirt. And then my fingers found a label, and I realised my tshirt was on back to front. And then I wasn't feeling so smug any more.
I am not cut out for smart.