Just how naive can a potty mummy get? (For 'naive', read 'dumb', by the way).
It was an interesting morning today. Boy #1 and I dropped his brother at school, which in itself was a bit of an epic trip. I nearly lost it on the Warwick Road; my two back-seat drivers were sending me crazy...
Boy #2: "Go! Go! Go! Faster!"
Me: "I can't, Boy #2. The lights are red..."
Boy #2: #"Go. That. Way!"
Me: "Boy #2, I can drive, thankyou."
Boy #2: "Put. Your. sun. shade. Away. Mama!"
Me: "I need it down to shade my eyes, the sun's very low today."
Boy #2: "Ow! OW! Sun. in. my. EYES!"
Me: Y"es, I know..." (I turn right)
Boy #1: "Why are you going this way, mama?"
Me: "Because there is heavy traffic, so I'm trying a shortcut... blast." (or something to that effect)
Boy #2: "Truck! Rubbish. Truck. Mama! In. The. ROAD!"
Me: "Yes, yes, I know..."
And so on.
By the time I got home with only Boy #1 in tow, I was not in the most relaxed frame of mind. I pulled up the blinds in the sitting room, and as I did so, noticed that some of the remaining tree biscuits - the ones on the slightly lower branches - had definitely been tampered with. Little bite marks in the edges of the tree-shaped ones, missing points on the stars.
I was not best pleased.
However, at the back of my mind, there was a seed of doubt. I have two boys who could easily have done this, yes. But when Boy #1 denied all knowledge, looking at me with his big grey-green eyes as if butter wouldn't melt, I actually believed him. Mainly because, in addition to two hungry boys there are other small creatures in this house that would make short work of a biscuit or two.
I've been in denial, but it's time to face up to it.
Those pesky mice are back. And they are no doubt delighted with the snacks I've been so carefully leaving out for them.
(Needless to say, any broken tree biscuits that had formerly been stored in the tin for future consumption have now been thrown out. Along with my illusions...)