Pushover? Moi?

A couple of weeks back one of our new neighbours invited us over for a cup of tea. It was a lovely gesture, all the more so because recently arrived and basically camping in our new home, such civilised events as actually sitting down (on chairs!), drinking tea (from proper cups!) and eating cake (home-made, no less!) were something we had got out of the habit of doing.

Her children got on well with ours, and the afternoon was marred only by a pushing incident when one of them got a little too physical with Boy #2. Just a one off. Nothing to worry about. But still. I'm a mum, right? So I made a mental note to keep a weather eye out in the future when said child was around.

A couple of days back, a few children came over for a playdate, and this child was among them. I resolved to keep an eye on Boy #2 and make sure the boy in question didn't pick on him. Nothing more, just observe from a distance.

The child's behaviour was, of course, exemplary, and mid-way through the playdate he walked into the kitchen where I was putting together a casserole for a dinner party (just call me Abigail). He sniffed the air. I watched him, narrowly. 'You can't put one over on me, sunshine...I've got your number.'

And then he turned to me and said "Smells good. You must be an excellent cook."

And I, cold hard woman that I am, melted, and said in reply; "Thanks. Would you like another biscuit?"

See? I am definitely no pushover...