Emily and Phoebe

Monday, March 05, 2007


Emily finishes school each day at about 12.25, and we usually go to the park for 20 minutes afterwards so she can play with her friends before heading for home. Most of the time she plays football, but today she went off exploring with her friends first, and at 12.45, when I wanted to leave, they were only just choosing teams.

"Come on Emily, it's time to go!" I shout over to her.
"Oh please, Dad, just five more minutes," she begs.
"I'm sorry my love, we have to get back so I can start cooking your lunch."
"Perfect! You never let me do anything."

Something tells me she's not happy with my decision, so I decide to rationalise it for her.

"Well, darling, I think I do let you do things. But here's an idea: tomorrow I really won't let you do anything you want to, and then you'll have something to compare today to. How about that?"

Emily emits a strange strangulated noise. "Right! I'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day." I respond by doing my happy dance (wiggling my bottom from side to side while pretending to play the maracas and rhythmically chanting "A-ha cha cha, a-ha cha cha, a-ha cha cha) and predictably enough, Emily is less pleased than ever. Having promised not to speak to me though, she is left with no choice but to remain silent. And indeed she does so, marching homewards with a grim expression on her face as she successfully ignores my inane drivel.

At the time of writing she has yet speak! Watch this space for further news on Emily's Trappist tendencies.


Anonymous Jean O'Reilly said...

What a delight to have you back again! I've missed these stories. Please send my love to Nevi, and keep the anecdotes coming. XX

10:53 AM  
Blogger Paul said...

Thanks for your kind words Jean! I'll be keeping it up as long as work permits!

Love to you and Ian from the Greek gang!

1:22 PM  

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