Cinderelly, Cinderwelly

While many others are able to share about converting egg boxes into Art Deco, recreating famous artwork, or learning Japanese with their children; I am more akin to recreating Cinderella.

The Fairy Godmother is called Gin, the lost slipper was put in the loo by the 14 month old and 8pm is the new midnight. We have a chariot, but a Thule Chariot for the bike, not a horse drawn carriage. I’m waiting for my pumpkin seeds to grow. The mice never read the blurb on social distancing, and Gus Gus is a dog (our dog) rather than a mouse who was well before his time in showing evidence of stockpiling.

For the boys, I could say I am letting them expand their imagination and creativity. In reality, it looks like they are more feral than the last cat. But hey, Cinderella let the mice run riot on her watch.

When jobs need done, you do walk round in literal circles to achieve them (but that’s circles with the buggy/Chariot you understand; I’m not wandering round the driveway with the hoover just to ward off any potential visitors, I’m just trying to get someone asleep). For some jobs need at least one child (the Micro) asleep to ensure safety. But when the older falls asleep by accident and the younger is content to watch the world go by unless you take two steps away, you might as well have the two Ugly Stepsisters demanding your time.

Never fear, the cows eventually got their straw and hay. The boys were fed, and the Fairy Gin-mother disappeared…

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