Thursday, 7 April 2011

A new Jamie emerges

Our Jamie is growing up.

I should have worked this out last night, but it was only this morning that the penny dropped.

I was just in the door from work yesterday when, as usual, White Jnr arrived demanding "a special treat."  (In Jamieland, that's code for chocolate. Or cake.  Or ice cream - you get the picture).

I'll normally quickly relent and give him something out of a Tupperware box we have crammed with unhealthy consumables.  But, before I do, I tend to ask him what he wants - then give him what he's given.

And yesterday was no exception - to begin with.

Me: "Have you been good?"

Him: "Yes."

Me: "What do you want?"

Him: "I want one of these."

He then opened a low cupboard, pulled out a mini-pack of Cadbury's Fingers, closed the door and marched off to the living room, stopping only to bellow, "THANK YOU!"

What?!  I was genuinely taken aback. When did our son become self-sufficient?!     

We fast forward to 7.35 this morning when I dropped him off at nursery.  He gets his breakfast there and, last week, he moved into the Pre-School Room - the "sixth form centre" of the Little People nursery, if you will.

In Tweenies, where he previously held residence, he would be asked what he wanted to fill his growing abdomen.  He would announce his choice and it would be brought to him with a bow. And that is exactly what Vanessa and I have been doing with him since he went on to solids.

But this morning I got a shock.

He pottered into the Pre-School Room and was asked what he wanted for breakfast.

"Rice Krispies," came his reply.

"OK," said one of the nice nursery ladies.

And I couldn't believe what happened next. 

He walked over to the table where all the breakfast necessaries were laid out.  He chose a bowl, lifted the box of Rice Krispies, filled his bowl, picked up a jug of milk, poured some over his cereal, chose a spoon, carried his bowl over to another table, sat down and began to eat.  No mess, no spills, no fuss.

This thunderbolt will not be forgotten come Saturday morning when, instead of me giving Jamie his breakfast, he'll be giving it to himself - and then making me mine.  (Vanessa can get her own).

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