And on the front page too!

http://www.gaiafest.org/

Despite the books with caterpillars, the colour by numbers, the electronic computer thing, and even countless episodes of Sesame Street, the little lad is jumbling up his numbers. As he bounces on the bed, he counts and repeats the same four numbers, 2, 9, 10, 4. It's one number short of winning the Super Five lotto. Perhaps these numbers have greater meaning or have some importance. Perhaps a series of numbers that needs to be inputted on some other island, somewhere. At the risk of getting LOST in the plot, we have taken it as a good sign and like all great mathematicians, he is creative with numbers.

The young man is recovered from a tummy bug that saw him perform some new tricks, prompting just about everything within a five mile radius to be dry cleaned. Perhaps that's too much information. Now fighting fit and back to being a real handful. Currently watching The Incredibles and a series of short films by Dr Seuss.




Green Eggs and Ham, with a bit of TheO thrown in...

Most children can be temporarily pacified when given a toy of some description. A squeaky Rhino can provide hours of distraction. Some toys may even lead to obsessions and may never be prised from those tight little hands, not even for Jelly Tots. The little lad however is quite unique. Small toys that are supposed to create 'toddler relief' are flung in the most impossible of places. Currently, there is a small rubber 'Triceratops' lodged on the outer Bastions of the Citadel in Victoria, Gozo. A 'Sponge Bob Square Pants' ball is over the wall at Mdina, and there is a yellow 'Noddy' car at the bottom of the lift shaft of our residence. The problem is that as a frustrated 'Superhero Daddy' I am unable to approach these misplaced tests of fearless retrieval. The Bastions at Victoria and Mdina were built to keep the invading Turks out. Attempts to scale the walls will result in certain failure and, no doubt, a touch of boiling oil to boot. The lift shaft, with the scenario of a good crushing clear in my mind, represents a far more possible opportunity...

The wild child is talking much more and developing his sense of humour. He is a gold medal winner at his recent school sport Fun Day, (I think they may have all been given one) and able to tell the difference between yellow, orange and blue! (mmm) He has also started to say his name and age when asked and can name people in photographs. I'm reading 'Beers of the World' to him but don't think he really appreciates the gravitas!




An excitable lad in the Park

A visit from 'Mum' has put the little lad into major hyper mode. The confused Grandmother brought her sister and sister's husband just to make up the numbers. The book called 'The Complete Guide To Uninvited Advice on Raising Children' has been dusted down, again, and re-read, again! Despite the recommendations for a two month stay in a work camp, and maybe some old school beatings, 'Mum' seems very fond of the young man.

The little lad is displaying signs of a dental vocation by examining the inside of the mouths closest to him. Pulling the jaws apart, the good ladies gold crown has been referred to as 'a nice job' and Daddies been told he should floss more. Grandpa would indeed be proud!!

Despite all the mayhem, the weather is now glorious, the boat is seaworthy, and the young man is conversing very well. He sound less like a tramp on Meth's and more like a Oxford Graduate, well, nearly… eh!



A painted Tiger face, but where are the Jetski keys….

With a fine idea in mind, I have managed to make a quick trip to the UK. Picking up a million and one thing's including a new wardrobe for the young man (clothing, not a box with doors.) This slight separation has caused the little lad to change his demands of “go away Daddy” to “I want Daddy” Shame, he really should have thought about that before throwing a heavy plastic Hippopotamus at my head. Having a quick stroll down the hometown High Street, I noticed many other small children of a similar age, and quickly forgave the offspring, even missing his accurate shot! Back to the island within the next 24hrs so will stock up on plasters at the airport. Perhaps bandages too…



TheO & the good lady in a long dark tunnel, with a bright light at the end…

With the rise in temperature, the little lad has activated his repetition module. He is now able to comply when asked to 'repeat after me' This is a fantastic development with new words abounding. The only downside to this is a developing Maltese accent. Father becomes 'Fardeeerr' and even his name has changed to 'TaO' A Maltese accent can best be described as follows:

1. Anything shouted loudly.
2. Eh! placed at the beginning/ middle/ end of every sentence.
3. The word 'Madonna' used throughout every sentence.
4. Sounding like you're Welsh.

If this were to be put in to some context, the young man might one morning ask (shouting loudly) 'Eh, Muddeeer, Cherio's Madonna, Eh!' This may be finished with 'Boyo' to finalise the flavour. I digress.

The young man is still fixated with his hat from Australia. It's the first thing he asks for in the morning and he won't go to sleep without it. He looks forward to horse riding on Saturday mornings and the beach in the afternoon. Currently watching Shrek 1 & 2 and The Lion King.



TheO shows me his finger, right, no sweets for a month!!