It is 9.54am. Number Three and I been up for four hours. He’s going through a phase (or so I keep telling The Bavarian, who is losing his reason will all the recent toddler-induced early mornings). As well as causing incredibly early wakefulness, this phase includes trying to eat anything and everything.
1. Toilet cleaner – someone, naming no names, left the toilet cleaner on top of the loo and not in its high up hiding place. Luckily the top was well screwed on and I was right beside Number Three when he picked it up.
2. Chalk – this made it into the mouth before I could stop him. He’d been scribbling away happily on the kitchen blackboard before deciding to have a nibble.
3. The lock on the supermarket trolley *shudders with disgust* – why anyone would want to contort themselves into a suitable position to be able to lick the metal tab that shoves into the trolley lock is beyond me, but Number Three has a liking for it.
4. Maggi – Maggi is the German version of Worcestershire Sauce but tastes worse in its pure form. For days Number Three has been trying to flip open the lid. Today it worked and he took a big swig of it. He coughed, spluttered and winced and just as I thought he’d learned his lesson, a big grin spread across his face. I have a feeling he’s going to develop a taste for it.
I, on the other hand, in the four hours since I woke this morning have only managed to eat half a biscuit (Number One bit into it, didn’t like and handed it to me). I’ve passed the toast or cereal time of the morning and am about to tuck into the emergency Mars bar that lives in my handbag.