This little man makes it exceedingly difficult to read anything while feeding him.
If there is something being read behind his back he kicks his feet and pushes my chest and detaches (without letting go of suction, mind you - I think just to prove a point) to find said reading material.
Cheeky little Monkey.
He has also mastered the high pitch scream. We took him to a flouncy wouncy upmarket restaurant while we were in Victoria and he proceeded to scream down the house. He wasn't upset, tired, cranky or hungry. He had simply found his inner SCREAM!
... and on to the kindy responsibilities...
washing, ironing and mending/hemming the entire dressing-up wardrobe. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to iron these horrid plastic fabrics? Let me tell ya - there's a whole lotta polyester and lycra and viscose in this pile.
... mission accomplished and ready for the start of kindy.
P.S. poor Baxter had to model the dress-ups so that I could see where to hem. I do declare this a good blackmail photo for later.
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