Friday, 6 June 2008
My Garden Gnomes
So 'the babies' (OK they're 18 months and nearly 4 years but they're still my babies) are outside, barefoot on the terrace in the early morning sun, getting filthy feet and no doubt continueing to uproot our expensive patio trees and shrubs. Pretty much everyday I go outside to find them looking like Calcutta street urchins (runny noses, plastered in dirt and whipping things over the black wrought iron rail), and inevitably I'll find some sad, dying plant uprooted and lying forlornly on the hot tiles of concrete, turning brown and about to pass over into the Great Big Garden in the Sky (sigh).
Now that we have outside space I can't imagine what we would have done in our old flat. Boys cannot be contained indoors....that much is absolutely certain. They now clamber onto our expensive black leather dining chairs, find the hidden terrace key high on the bookshelf behind the Jane Austen, and let themselves out without permission. It's not unusual to have them in the kitchen one minute, then hear a gleeful chuckle and turn around to a 'hiya' from Dumps as he's balancing on the white iron rails outside the kitchen window, gripping on with chubby little toes and grinning like a circus monkey.
Speaking of Dumps he has all but reverted to nonsense speak after early signs of talking and the only legible words he says are 'Dada' or 'Da' for his father, 'Baaaa' for Auntie Ba, and 'Boo' for book. He also says 'hiya' and 'bye', accompanied by a wave as he exits rooms, but thus far there is no sign of 'Mama', 'Ma' or anything remotely maternal issuing forth from his rosebud lips. Instead he speaks what i call 'Gobbledigook'.
This strange new language makes sense when accompanied by frustrated gestures, but to watch that tongue of his snap expertly in and out of his little mouth is truly a site to behold. The closest I can get to describing it is to refer to the Ethiopian character on South Park (an irreverent cartoon) and the clickety-clack noises he would make when speaking...it's pretty much like that.
Egg on the otherhand has begun to pepper his phrases with distinguished little flourishes like, 'indeed' and 'most certainly not', and instead of refusing outrightly he'll say, "Sorry, I'm afraid No. Thank you." (Oh my). He has also perfected the practice of staring solemnly at you while you explain why he may NOT do something, then upon the end of the lecture, calmly departing and doing it anyway. If there was such a thing as the 'Strong-Willed Olympics' then without a doubt these troublesome twosome would win (smiling adoringly throughout).
Well this will have to be a short one today as the boys have now trampled mud into our recently cleaned kitchen (the cleaning lady was here yesterday - evidenced not by our immaculate home but rather my emptier wallet). Additionally Dumps has just climbed up onto the back of a kitchen chair and has come crashing down in slow-motion backwards, gripping onto the back for dear life. Oh my. He must have a head of steel...what a resilient little fellow he is...my dear little cockroach. Luckily it's nothing that a little cuddle and a tasty treat can't fix :)