The seven month stage is quickly crawling up on us, a trick that TheO has started to develop too. Not only has he mastered the acts of 'pushing up', 'rolling over' and 'sitting up' but has now taken to moving himself around the flat, unaided and to our surprise. I am just waiting to open a high cupboard and suffer a cardiac arrest as the little lad pops his head out, grinning. The good lady has instructed me to run along to the stationary shop and purchase 300 meters of bubble wrap and a pair of scissors with rounded ends that are, infact, impossible to cut anything with.

My normal rant concerning Maltese culture took a swing this week. Outside a Chinese Restaurant was a large blackboard sign saying “Open for Lunch” It was 1.pm, on a Thursday, lunchtime in my world, yet there was a sign on the door saying closed. The place was deserted. Confucius says 'Fine words and an insinuating appearance are seldom associated with true virtue' How true.



A not very busy lunchtime restaurant

Last Sunday I took some pictures of the rapidly changing 'baby' to prove that I did infact, once have one. With my rich photographic past, I again pulled out the sheepskin rug and played 'Russian Roulette' with the nappy. It could have got very messy. The boy performed and the rug is now with the dry cleaners, ahem!



TheO at just a snip off seven months, but with rounded scissors...