Choosing a Birthday Present
This morning I was tasked with whisking Miss 8 into town aboard the rattliest scooter in the known universe to search out a birthday present for the little boy that lives down the road. While leaving the house, the shopping list suddenly expanded to include enough hair grips and hair bands to kit out several hundred little girls, but that's another story for another day.
Here's the list of “ideas” Miss 8 came up with while wandering around the toy-shop, which probably give some bizarre indication of the workings of her mind;
A fake dog pooPlastic vampire teethHandcuffsA particularly brutal looking battle axeA sticky rubber man that you throw at the window
I will admit to laughing out loud when she presented me with the dog poo. I ended up helping her choose a stomp rocket. It's this wonderful looking contraption where you stamp on a button, and a foam rocket flies straight up a tree, hits somebody in the head, or vanishes into next door's garden.
Sometimes I wish our girls were more “girly”, but then realise we are incredibly lucky. Despite them being gorgeous, and funny, and smart, and kind, they also play rugby, do judo, and the eldest has just begun rowing! We don't have fights over makeup, inappropriate clothes, or boysyet, so we're hanging on to these times by our fingertips, hoping they never end.