Here's a little conversation I had with Katie this morning...
Me: Why don’t you want to go to your friend’s house?
Katie: It’s not me that doesn’t want to go – it’s my brain. My brain doesn’t like playing so it’s decided not to go.
Me: You are a very strange little girl
Katie: It’s not me that’s strange – it’s my brain. My brain is very, very, strange.
No kidding...
Then I'm scrabbling through the laundry mountain looking for socks and wondering how it is possible to have twenty-seven single kids' socks and not one pair, when Jess wanders pasts wearing four mismatched socks - two on her feet and two on her hands.
I'm sure other people's children are not this weird!
There is no knitting happening here - I have an exam tomorrow. The green jersey will return on the weekend.
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Other people's children ARE that strange. And I think mine eat their socks. There is no other possible way that they could have lost ELEVEN single socks leaving only the far-too-small pairs in the drawer. I buy new socks in sets of three. I buy the same size for both girls (as they always want what the other one has but loathe their own stuff) and I make sure we bring back their socks (discarded five minutes after arrival) from daycare. So where the hell do they go?
I did find three being used for sleeping bags in the dollshouse (I blame The Smartest Giant In Town) but what about the others?
Why is it that they can lose so many of their clothes but I still never run out of laundry?
Hi Rachel,
Jussi told me to drop by and say hello and I'm doing so. It's always nice to catch up with another kiwi knitter and considering the number of expats we have in Sydney alone I'm sure we could start a kiwi knit ring.
I got round the sock thing by buying all the pairs in the same colour - but I've got a boy and he doesn't care what he has on his feet.
Our children are a different kind of weird.
And apparently, matching socks matter more to you than they do to your child. :-)
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