I was gathering Jamie and his bag up to take him to nursery yesterday morning when he decided he would close his eyes. What a great trick.
So, ignoring it, I hoisted him and said bag on to my shoulders for the journey to Busy Bees.
A minute or two along the footpath, he called down from his lofty perch to advise that he was playing a new game of closing one eye at the same time as he opened the other.
"That's clever!" he announced. And there was little doubt that it was. Perhaps even the work of a genius.
Eventually, we made it to nursery, where I plonked him down, hung his coat on his peg and led him to the Sunflower Room.
However, as we were about to go through the door, I noticed he had both eyes closed once again.
"Come on Jamie," I muttered, "time for breakfast."
"I can't see!" he announced.
"Don't be silly," I said, as other people started to appear and self-consciousness began to set in. "Come and get some breakfast."
"I CAN'T SEE!" he boomed, much louder this time, prompting one of the nice nursery ladies to come over to assist.
"Let me help you to your chair, Jamie," she said.
"OK," said White Jnr, eyes still firmly shut. "I can't see."
"He can see," I whimpered pathetically, "don't be silly Jamie."
"I can't see," he repeated calmly, now with a hint of smirk beginning to appear.
"Don't worry Mr White," said nice nursery lady. "Say goodbye to Daddy, Jamie."
And, eyes fully scrunched up, he offered a kind of half wave, half salute, as his bottom was guided into his seat.
I shuffled off, mortified.
Sometimes I actually hate my son.
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