From a child who used to think that the word for a single piece of cheese was ‘a chee’, came a high-octane day of lego, wire jewellery making and the ubiquitous barbecue. He drew dragons breathing fire, flying dragons, multicoloured dragons and baby dragons. (Catch the theme?)

From his sister, whom Neen has convinced me NOT to call ‘Hannorexia’ (don’t worry, I’m not that insensitive), foodstuffs requested and not consumed today only included: banana, apple, biscuits (4 times), pancake, toast, meat, sausage, (ie, soddit on de flate), rooibos tea, numerous containers of different flavours of juice, chips, and onion. Things she ate: one small bowl of fruit loops, a raisin she found outside in the garden (please, Lord, let it be a raisin), a piece of roll and a few chips.

(If you are looking for a good laugh, then when your two-year-old asks for lemon, give them some. As Charles Schultz used to put it, ‘BLEEEUUGH’)

Despite, as Neen was trying to remind James today, Jesus protecting us, we have put in an alarm system. If an ant so much as suffers from flatulence in our house, buff guys with close-set eyes and itchy trigger fingers will surround our property. We don’t have much left worth protecting, but at least the human occupants of our house will be safe. Now we just have to remember the codes…

Tomorrow we are descending on the cinema with cousin and aunt (Neen’s sister and my niece, Rhiannon), for a happy morning of the Winnie the Pooh Heffalump movie. As riveting as this proposes to be, I am hoping for some me-time myself  later on. It’s a holiday weekend in South Africa, (Four days, Easter) so I am wearing a t-shirt which I wouldn’t wear out, and, and this is a big deal for me, I’m not wearing socks. Or shoes. Yup, here I sit, feet on carpet, not a care in the world. I guess I feel more secure with socks on, no big deal. Ok, so I have some feet issues, but they are my issues.

So, no socks; I am relaxed. No way I can follow either the ‘fight or flee’ impulse unshod. Obviously I was wearing heavy boots whilst tossing slabs of meat onto the fire, but now that all the chores are done, I sit. Aaaaaah. Thumbs-a-twiddle.

Hope your weekends are also peaceful, and that none of you are kidnapped and forced to watch Jerry Springer re-runs.

Sho-be-do, la la la. Pom pom pom. Humming to myself…