Memories

As I waited to see the doctor this morning a young family came in, including a small boy with fluffy golden hair. He looked about 20 months old, and his father lead him to the play area complete with toys. As the child - baby really - fiddled with the cars and games his father opened a book and proceeded to test him on the objects therein. "What is this striped animal", he asked. "A chebya" piped up the infant with a laugh. "Zebra," said his father. "Chebya," repeated the cherub joyfully. And instantly I was plunged back to around 40 years ago to another couple of tots who knew all the names but couldn't yet get their tongues around them. "What colour is butter?" I'd ask the littlest one. "Lellos" would come the triumphant reply. "And what is this bird standing on one leg?" "A Flambo" the other one would tell me. "What colour is it?" to the smallest one. "Punk". Oh, it was wonderful, watching a baby's brain expand to absorb so much knowledge. Richard Scarry's Best Word Book Ever was our bible until it fell apart. What I'd give to have a look at it again. They knew hundreds of birds, and could identify them all. When the youngest who couldn't pronounce the sound "eee" finally stopped calling me Mamma and managed Mummy my heart nearly broke.

It's been like a Chinese laundry here these past few days as the conveyor belt takes dirty bedding and turns out clean and ironed linen ready for the airing cupboard. Nothing more satisfying in my opinion. We missed an electric blanket at the weekend though I searched the house from top to bottom. It turned up in the end where it had been one of two on the bed in the small bedroom. Explanation? I don't have one.

Hugo continues to delight in his slanket. The word is an amalgamation of 'blanket' and, um, something beginning with 'sl'. It's a huge fleecy thing with sleeves which incorporates the body completely and allows one to snuggle cosily and warmly in any situations. They are made for
hugh-mans really, but understandably Hugo thinks he's one of these, and he accepted the present with absolute pleasure. It's made life easier for me too, transporting him from room to room as necessary and ensuring that his loose black hairs don't come into contact with my light-coloured sofa. I simply brink his slanket. It will catch on in the canine world. How could it not?