LITTLE MASTER SUNSHINE

During Oscar's visit this week I was trying to introduce the concept of addition. Using fingers I said "one and one makes?" "SUNSHINE" he yelled and he was so dogmatic that for a split second I wondered if he might be right.

Our daughter has experienced a downside to the wonderful world of employment. After applying for and getting an extra role at the school where she works, she encountered nothing but unhelpfulness and cussedness from the member of staff she was taking over from. Things got so bad that our daughter found herself having to take the blame for measures that had been introduced by her predecessor - while that person was sitting silently next to her, presumably glowing with satisfaction. So a willing worker has thrown in the towel - with our blessing. If it's taught her one thing it's that there's nowt so queer as folk.
It took me back to my first job in the summer after I left school. I was a dental receptionist and was taking over from a feisty sort of girl. On my first day of booking appointments, a Lady Bracknell lookalike arrived for her 10am slot - only there was no 10am slot booked. I was almost for the chop as all hell broke loose, until I spotted that the feisty one had rubbed out this dragoness's name, knowing full-well what the consequences would be for me. I've experienced mean-minded characters like that on and off throughout my career and have found that it's usually those with a miserable home life who can't bear to see  people who are happy with their lot, getting on in their lives.

PARDON?

Oscar is great company and we have long intelligent conversations. But sometimes I seem to be transported back to the '60s "where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies" and when nothing was surprising. For instance this week when Oscar was sitting in his car seat supping orange juice he announced: "Oscar had enough now Grandma, Oscar save some for yesterday." I had a sudden mystical moment. Followed sharply by another when he added: "Grandad is very clever man. Grandad is magic man." Fortunately grandad wasn't in the car - it wouldn't do to swell his head any more than it already is. But I wish I could step into Oscar's world just for a couple of minutes.

Today I'm moving my putting all my winter clothes away - so I predict icy cold temperatures and rain for the next four weeks at least.

MOTHERS' DAY

At the risk of embarrassing them, I reckon I must have the best children ever. The house now resembles a florist's, I have new slippers, smellies and books that are right up my street.

Our daughter was home from Hull and over breakfast I was asking her if she'd watched any of the Red Nose Day programmes. I told her that I'd taped it all and then watched it the next day, fast forwarding through all the appeals. "So you really entered into the spirit of it," she said. I've been laughing about it all day - which probably just makes my crassness worse.

The "boat" built by my mother for Oscar, out of an upside-down stool, is becoming ever more sophisticated. It is now on wheels, has a Union Jack attached and is pulled by two coloured belts. Oscar sets off for "Edinburgh" "Manchester" and "Liverpool" during his weekly visits to her flat and seems to prefer this cobbled-together contraption to the colourful Raleigh bike that sits unused in our garage!

PIG ON A PLATE

I think I'm turning into my mother. We can always rely on her to put her foot in it at least once during Sunday dinner. Yesterday we were having baked ham and I could see that Oscar was eating everything on his plate - except the ham. So to encourage him (looking back it seems so stupid) I told him that the pink meat on his plate was a piggy like Peppa Pig. Everyone round the table gasped in horror and Oscar's face crumpled. I quickly said that it wasn't Peppa Pig, just like Peppa Pig. "No, is Peppa Pig" said Oscar. pushing the entire plate away from him. So that's ham off the menu.

HELLO BIG PANSY

Oscar was admiring his mummy and daddy's daffodils when I picked him up yesterday. I showed him the baby pansies in our hanging basket. He said he didn't like them so I picked one and showed him its little face - he backed away and I'm not sure if he thought grandma had gone batty or if he expected the flower to talk. Later, when we went to the village he spotted a window box outside the local Italian restaurant. He stood in front of the flowers, by the open door,  shouting "Hello big pansy" - I don't think we'll be booking a meal there for some considerable time.

IT FITS!

Hurray - the Peppa Pig jumper fits and I have a feeling that Oscar's daddy had a little word with him before he came to play because as soon as he bounced through the door he said he wanted to wear the Peppa Pig jumper! While he was with us we visited great grandma, who at 80, performed a Highland jig and then pushed Oscar round and round her flat in a pretend boat.

Oscar pulls great grandma's teddies around in the pretend boat.

PEPPA PIG

I am putting a picture of the jumper I've just finished on the blog without Oscar in it, because I have a feeling he'll never be in it! I made the mistake of showing it to him while it was still on the needles - mainly because I wanted him to know that I wasn't just knitting for the new baby. I said to my husband "it's going to be too big" not really thinking that Mr Sharp Ears in the corner would be taking it all in. The next time I got it out Oscar shouted "too big grandma" so the odds of me actually getting it over his head tomorrow are small. The trouble is, when the time comes that it actually does fit him (probably about age 6) Peppa Pig will just be an embarrassment!