We all know frogs go....

Girl: I'm a croak.
Mummy: You're a.... what?
Girl: A croak.
Mummy: Ah. Ok. What's a croak?
Girl: A frog's screaming!

And apparently they're screaming in a puddle.

The Girl is just over 2, but she's off and racing to catch up with Boy in the chatterbox department. And she's picked up so many delightful turns of phrase from her brother. Like NOTHING! which is what she says when she's annoyed and doesn't want to be asked questions. Or Go away! - or alternatively Stop talking to me! Don't look at me! - when she doesn't want to be told not to do something.

This morning she was trying to stand on her head. She told Daddy she was standing on her penis. Oh dear.

She also has a bit of a temper. Boy can't help but tell us when he's pushed/bitten/hit his sister. Girl, however.... The other day, having just broken up a fight between the siblings, Auntie B caught Girl quietly spitting in Boy's drink.

Surely this means she's old enough for daycare now.

The life aquatic

Boy has been musing about the Octonauts

Isn't it funny that Peso doesn't eat fish? (He's a penguin.)
And isn't it funny that Captain Barnacles doesn't just eat all the other Octonauts? (He's a polar bear.)

And, you know, he's noticed that they never shower after they've been in the salty sea water. He's not sure they ever shower at all!

And they never go to the toilet.

I'd like to be...

I think maybe those Steiner people are on to something...

I curse the makers of annoying children's television. And I curse myself for letting my children watch it. GAH!

So, if you haven't already heard, we're all set to be living underwater soon. In an Octopod. Just round the corner from the Ocotonauts (who may well be coming round for sleepovers sometimes).

Boy keeps warning us that today is our last day in the real world. I'm starting to feel a bit like a member of one of those doomsday cults where the prophet gets the dates wrong. I don't actually want to live underwater - not that Boy gives a toss what I want - but I'd like this over with one way or another.

If I hear a sentence beginning "When we live underwater..." one more time....

Anyway, Boy says he's hard at work inventing things for when we're underwater. He's going to provide all the oxygen for people, but you have to bring your own food and other stuff. Just a head's up.

Mostly he's just hard at work talking about it. We endured three hours solid the other day. Thankfully he doesn't care too much whether we're really listening or not.

He pulled a swifty on Daddy the other day.

Daddy, I need to tell you something.
Oh.
But it's not about living underwater.
Oh! Ok.
So... when we're living underwater....

And poor Girl just keeps wanting to get her bathers on because she thinks we're going swimming. No, I say, we're not going to the pool. Oh... swimming in da ocean?

sigh.


Is this where it all started....? I have no idea why anyone would want to live in an Octopus' Garden, shade or no shade, unless perhaps you happened to be an octopus.