The Princess has a cough. She woke up last night at 11.00 coughing. She refused to go back to bed and stayed in my arms dozing and coughing until 1.30 when she finally agreed that it was probably time to consider going back to her own bed. She woke again at 5.00. She was convinced that it was morning. It was bright and she was ready to party. Tried to put her back to bed but she roared. Soft hearted Mr. Waffle said “bring her into our bed”. She was delighted, she waved and clapped her hands. She practised her new found standing skills using her parents’ prone bodies as climbing frames. She stuck her fingers up her father’s nose, repeatedly. This is an exciting new game which gets an excellent reaction. Picture the scene, her Daddy is drifting off to sleep, his defences are down, a small digit is thrust up his nose accompanied by the sound of a manic chuckle.
At 7.00, I decided that there really was no chance that she would go back to sleep and she and I got up. There are few things more fun than Dr. Seuss at 7.00 in the morning. “Mr. Brown can moo, can you?” At 8.00 Mr. Waffle appeared. A very flat Waffle. At 8.15 her imperial highness said “Minion, I am tired bring me to the royal cot”. It is now 12.00 and she is sleeping still. Is there a sign of a cough out of her? No, there is not.
After she went back to sleep, Mr. Waffle and I chatted.
“I’m very glad that I got the new soap dish in the bathroom, now that we have two…”
Mr. Waffle lifted his head from the table where he had been resting it between mouthfuls of cereal and interrupted my fascinating discourse on soap dishes “What are you wearing?”
“My dressing gown”
“It’s got porridge encrusted on it”
“Well, you know, I wear it when I give her her breakfast.” I peered at the offending garment. I sniffed it. “I think it’s also faintly smelly, want to smell?”
“No, I do not. Oh my God, what have we become? There’s a word for it. Oh yes, parents”
I have decided that it’s time my dressing gown went in the wash.
