Friday, 1 March 2013

Appreciation at last.

My house, about five minutes ago.  B, having got the children up and dressed while I showered, is still upstairs getting dressed himself.

A asks:

Mummy, why do you do all the hard work?
What sort of hard work, Sweetheart?
All the things Daddy doesn't do.

I'll make a feminist of her yet....

3 comments:

I know. I'm sorry. I hate these word recognition, are you a robot, guff things too, but having just got rid of a large number of ungrammatical and poorly spelt adverts for all sorts of things I don't want, and especially don't want on my blog, I'm hoping that this will mean that only lovely people, of the actually a person variety, will comment.

So please do. Comments are great...