Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I'll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?
Poem by Spike Milligan
Images by Little Wanna and Ro-Ro
Term 3 and we are off and racing. Guides, soccer training, swimming lessons, flute and piano. Weekends filling fast with birthday invitations pouring in. An assembly line of sandwiches in the morning. No car parks in the parliamentary suburb of Barton by 9.00 am. Dark when we get home. Scratch meals, bath-time hussle, bed-time stories way too late and washing machine still whirring when the lights are off.
Not the lifestyle I grew up with that's for sure. Really, I don't know "whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them." But perhaps, "though this be madness, yet there is method in 't." I'm sure there is. The children seem to adapt to any routine wonderfully. They are always joyful and exuberant; full o' beans and smiles. Don't let their childhoods go too fast! They are hurtling way faster than mine did. I want to savour it all from, 'Can I have breakfast' to 'Can you tuck me in?", which I am off to do very soon. Goodnight little ones.
