A rhino that will not be saved

I had a brand new two-time daddy experience today, although one I'd better get used to pretty sharpish; I had my first go at looking after both my kids, unaided, all at the same time. 

Vanessa had gone off to check out the sale at M&S (which I did later and discovered it was crap), leaving me to give Jamie his lunch and put down for his midday nap, whilst juggling Charlotte with the other arm.

It didn't start well as Jamie got impatient whilst he waited for his food, thereby setting Charlotte off - and delaying his food still further. (That boy should think his tantrums through a little more).

Then, just as I calmed her down and set his lunch in front of him, we had an expected and very distressing development.  I stood on this.

Yes, Jamie's toy rhino.  Made of solid, hard plastic. And given I had no shoes on, it hurt like hell.

But thankfully, the situation soon turned around. He tucked into his beans on toast, two yogurts and a Santa biscuit.  Meanwhile, Charlotte got bored and drifted off to dream of pink fluffy angels.

And she stayed asleep, despite being transported upstairs to Jamie's room whilst I attempted to persuade him to get his head down.



A task which, incredibly enough, I succeeded in.

So, yes, I did end up feeling rather pleased with myself. 

But mark my words, the next time Jamie's back is turned, that rhino is going to get it.

UPDATE: Since last night, I received two comments from two very respected commentators with regard to my wish to kill the "rhino" - because it's not a rhino after all.

Malcolm - one of the wisest men I know- says it's a pterodactyl (the one with the wings).

So that'll be a no then.

But Alison insisted it was a triceraops. 

And she was right.

Alison, in my experience, is always right.