A week in tweets: #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

The continually falling snow here is just too too depressing at the moment, so in a bid to cheer myself up I'm posting using Jo's 'Week in Tweets' prompt again (here's my offering from last week).

This time she took as her theme the hashtag #WhyIMovedToBristol. Now, yesterday evening I mused on twitter that I might set up a new blog called 'It Seemed Like a Good Idea At The Time' (relax Husband - never going to happen) and whilst I'm not quite crazy enough to fuel my internet addiction in that way, it did seem a shame to waste the title - so I've used it here as a hashtag instead.

All the events in the following tweets are based on actual happenings - just not, perhaps, in the time frame depicted below...

Monday: A near miss with a Boy, a cookie, & a nut allergy. Decide 2 eschew shopbought & make own cookies from now on. #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

Tuesday: In high dudgeon announce cafeteria boycott to Boys Headmaster from top of Mount Self-Righteous. #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

Wednesday: Find have no sugar to make cookies, head to shops to restock. Am caught in traffic; late for Boys pick-up. #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

Thursday; Make 1st batch of cookies; delicious. But Boys refuse to eat them as they contain raisins. #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

Friday: Make 2nd batch; also delicious. Boys love them and refuse all other forms of sustenance except pizza. #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

Saturday: Get on scales and discover the *cough* 1 or 2 raisin cookies I saved from bin are still with me: #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

Sunday: Find Husband-sized hole in cookie jar; now none left. Go to make more - but have run out of sugar... #ItSeemedLikeAGoodIdeaAtTheTime

He's 4. FOUR!!!

This afternoon the Boys and I were sitting in the school cafeteria. I was bribing them not to moan on the 20 minute walk home through the driving snow by feeding them chocolate croissants whilst piously consuming only hot water myself. (Honestly. Who knew I would turn into my mother so early?).

It was busy, with pupils from right across the age spectrum of the school (4 - 18) stopping by to refuel, and next to us there was a table of five approximately 15 year-old girls, laughing and chatting away.

Boy #2, having finished his croissant, sat there with a chocolate smile on his face, surveying the room. A particularly loud 'Oh my gaaaaaaad!' from the table of girls behind him caught his interest, and he turned around to take a look.

He did a double take.

Then, he leaned over, nudged his brother in the ribs and said "Boy #1! Look!"

Boy #1, in a world of his own, recounting the plot of 'Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs' to me for the nth time, stopped. "What? What is it?"

"Look!" came the answer, a cheeky grin on Boy #2's face as he pointed behind him with a sticky hand. "Look! Gaaaaayells*!"


This is how it's going to be, isn't it?


* That's 'girls' for those who don't speak Four Year Old Boy.