On a wing and a prayer

Lunch today, with Boy #2 and I enjoying some quality time (Boy #1 was at nursery. Last day of term tomorrow, help...). After approximately 3 mouthfuls, Boy #2 decides he's had enough of this, and that he is going to climb down from his elegant but not very enclosing Stokke high chair and play with Thomas the Tank engine under the table.

Now, Boy #2 is not a waif-like individual. In fact, at 2 years younger, he is approximately 90% of his older brother's weight. So let's just say that his skipping a meal or two doesn't induce the panic in me that it might. But, nutritional concerns aside, it's not good practice to allow this type of behaviour, so I proceed to hoik him out and put him back in his chair.

The phone rings. I go and fetch it. When I get back, he's under the table again.

I can make this a confrontation, I think, or I can experiment in other ways of getting him to do as he's told. So, I start to whistle; The Wheels on the Bus. Cautious applause from under the table. By verse #2, I've started to sing the words (well, otherwise how would he know which action to do?). We've reached the wiper's on the bus going swish, swish, swish by the time he emerges. I throw in some extra gusto and a spot of vibrato for special impact as I lift him back into his chair.

He looks at me. Opens his mouth. Is he going to join in? I hold my breath.

"Mamma. Sssshhhh."

I'm crushed.



Let's draw a veil over my vocal talents and move swiftly on to my next favourite Christmas thing...

Last Minute Shopping

Now, I'm not talking about the sort of last minute shopping you fit in when you're at the supermarket a few days before Christmas and spot a must-have roll of gift-wrap. Ha! That is last minute shopping for pansies. I'm not even talking about on-line shopping two nights in advance, riding the roller coaster of 'will they / won't they deliver the mail in time' for the next 48 hours.

No, I am referring to the 'it's midday on Christmas Eve and I have yet to buy a single present' type of Last Minute Shopping.

I bet you think I'm mad.

I must admit, this has had to fall by the wayside in the last couple of years - children slow you down, and buggies are a nightmare on department store escalators - but pre-kids, I firmly believed this was the only way to do it. Leave the office after the final mince pie was eaten, rush to the nearest row of shops, and buy the lot, preferably in as short a time and as few stores as possible. John Lewis would be sufficent, actually, or Bentalls in Kingston upon Thames when I lived out that way. I could be in and out of there within 45 minutes when I was match fit. Pre-kids. (Did I mention that already? Because if I you're thinking of doing this with children in tow you are certifiable...)

And it's not that I had an exhaustive list, no indeed. The skill of the true last minute shopper is to not really have any idea of what to get the recipients, but to make whatever is available suit them. It hasn't always worked out, agreed. For instance, my brother got what looked like the same scarf 3 years running once, because my taste hadn't changed but my memory was impaired by the wine that had accompanied those mince-pies in the office. He had the good grace not to point this out; I only realised when in 2003 I found a photo of the 2002 present frenzy, with him wearing what looked the very same Ted Baker scarf I had just given him that morning...

But overall, it was a pretty sound strategy. If you don't have kids (did I say that already?), and a free afternoon when you finish on Christmas Eve, I suggest you try it. If you've got children, however... you would be crazy. Don't even think about it. Haven't done it all online already? You're toast.


BTW - I'm toast.