The longest night

Last night was the Winter Solstice – the ‘longest night of the year’ for Southern Hemisphere dwellers in general and for me in particular. To celebrate the occasion, the sprog decided to start growing another tooth.

How could I possibly know this, you ask? Simple. As I settled down to eat dinner, the youngster started using my leg as a jungle-gym and proceeded to do her very best anaconda impressions every time I lifted my fork to my lips. This is her special way of telling me, “Even though my dinner was initially identical to yours in every respect, by virtue of the arcane process of placing it on your plate, it has magically become far more delicious.” I generally try to ignore this sort of unwelcome attention, but it is extremely difficult to do when one’s forward field of vision is entirely obscured by a toddler’s gaping mouth. Of course, this meant that I was treated to an up-close-and-personal view of her emerging teeth, so I could clearly see the potential new arrival on the brink of emergence.

As a result, my wife and I were treated to an extended early morning recital of ‘The Best of Baby Shrieking’ and I am having a rather shitty day at the office.