14 weeks and counting. And I still lost my, uh, pre-breakfast breakfast first thing this morning. Sigh.
Still it was less complicated today because Honour was still safely in her cot.
Not so a few days ago. I had just scooped her out of her cot when...ug...ug...uh-oh...I have to get to my white, flushing friend pronto.
So I carried her with me into the bathroom. Now you have to know the layout of our house...but basically she can't be left unattended downstairs because of the stone staircase without the proper banister which she will try to scale with surprising speed. (But quite possibly then decide to fall down and land on her head on the cold, stone tiles.)
So....I had to hold her hand. While with the other hand I held back my hair (dear reader, I hope you've already finished your cornflakes) and embraced the white flushing friends, down on my knees in the time-honoured tradition. (no pun intended)
Well Honour's bedside/toilet-side manner took some twists and turns during this process.
At first she thought mummy 'laughing' into the toilet was very amusing. So she stood there holding my hand, watching with interest and giggling away.
Next she thought that mummy might need some hair patting...so she started to pat me on the head enthusiastically. Much as you would pat a dog.
(Meanwhile I am still going about 'my business'.)
But the piece de resistance was when she decided that perhaps we should draw this incident to a close.
And she closed the toilet seat.
On my head.
Now THAT, my friends, that is the way to start your morning.