Went away on Friday down to Phillip Island to stay with D&E&Small E in a house that belongs to D’s aunty. It was GOOD to get away from Trailerland for a bit. Even though I left my bank card in a cafe in Koo Wee Rup…

We got down there early and I cooked up kangaroo stew while M and Small Z had a snooze, and then had a snooze myself. It was excellent to spend some time catching up with our friends, who have a far more hectic life than we do - and it was particularly good to get the two babes together. They were very cute. Small E is just that bit (one month) older and stronger than Small Z - and very much a BOY.

Small Z gave as good as she got, and there was some dummy stealing (even though she won’t use one, she still wanted his) and eye gouging (Small E had a go) and both of them did some river-dancing in the Jolly Jumper - with Small E really going through his paces and kicking a ball back and forth. You can tell his mum is a dance teacher!

Of course I wish that it could have been a week instead of just two nights [sigh]. By mid morning Sunday I was beginning to worry about the two days of work I had to cram into that night and the following day. Thus, we ducked out of a coffee in Rhyll (a sad thing) and went home via my dad’s place, where we got some lunch and picked up one of the highchairs that we have had donated to us. A highchair!? Bizarre, or what!?

While we were there, my father took it upon himself to take Small Z off my hands. “How nice,” I thought, as he took her to the window at the end of the kitchen, “They’re bonding. Cute.” Things were fairly quiet there, near the window. In retrospect, I realise it was rather TOO quiet. Ten minutes later, when they came back near the fire, Small Z’s face was covered in dirt. And her tongue was black. He had given her an unwashed potato to gum on. And let her chew up a piece of paper with black ink all over it.

I jumped up and down, and M bit his lip. No one else thought it was wrong. FREAKS. I am happy for Small Z to ingest dirt, sand, and general trailer-mank with the best of them, once she is under her own steam and discovering the world. But now - at six months old - and only having tasted bits of apple and sweet potato outside of her breastmilk existence, I was thoroughly horrified. My dad remains unrepentant, but M and I? We quietly plot our revenge…