Because things aren't all grim here, and we do actually have quite a nice jolly time most of the time,
A missed photo opportunity - Grolly Beast playing with Mog's switch. Apparently, a toggle switch is just the right shape to really get behind those ears when you're moulting. Apparently, a cat using a switch to say "Hello" repeatedly is the Funniest Thing Ever if you're a girl under ten and living in this house.
And, in other news, did you know, I am the Mother of God? There's promotion for you! Who cut her back aside, the Little Princess' other big query is "Why I not got a Daddy?" And yes, we talk about her life story, we talk about her birth father, we talk about how there's just me so if she wants to keep me as a Mummy, she has to manage without a Daddy. And then we talk about how no one has to be without a Daddy because we all have a Father/Daddy God in Heaven who will be our Father if we love Him. And we talk about how Jesus loves us, and how if we love him and ask him in, he will always be with us, so we will never ever be alone, not even if it's night time and the lights are out and everyone else is asleep in different bedrooms.
We find bits of the Bible where Jesus says anyone who loves him is his brother or sister. And tLP is delighted. She has a Daddy God in Heaven, and now she has a Brother Jesus too. A Daddy and a Brother who love her, and who will always be with her, and who are always ready to listen and to keep her safe. But wait, see, because I am her Mummy. So if Jesus is her brother, well, you see where this is going? My middle name is Mary, after all.
The world can be a very confusing place when you're six. And possibly even more confusing when you're the mother of a six year old.
Oh, question for the wise readers. Anyone got any recommendations for a nice friendly "where do I come from?" type book which is preferably literal enough not to go down confusing side alleys regarding aliens or the laying of eggs, no special sneezes, and ideally one I can adapt to include cesarean sections and adoption too? Failing that, anyone fancy writing one?
Many and varied are the conversations I never thought I'd have. One of the bonuses of having a neuropathic bladder is that you're very familiar with medical names for various body parts. Explaining that no, you don't squeeze babies out of your urethra and they won't block the catheter has to be one of the more unusual things I've done this week.