… for reading books (although I did finish the one on Eleanor Roosevelt yesterday and am now half way through The Entymologicon).
Instead, we had the pleasure of Little Man Dancing’s company all day – here he is with a vintage spinning top which is over 30 years old. It used to belong to his “Dadda” and Auntie Dancing – for some reason it has some strands of dried spaghetti trapped inside so it rattles a bit. I think the younger Dancings must have posted some through the holes that make the whistling noise when it spins.
So, for the record, at 18 months old, some of Little Man Dancing’s vocabulary now includes Dadda, Mumma, dog, cat, brick, Kizzy, more, one doo (one two), car, choo choo, cheese, flower, all gone, uh oh, sheep, shoe, up step, get down, and he chats away in his own amazing authoritative language gesticulating with open hands or pointed fingers, gritting his teeth dramatically when something is a bit tricky to undo and doing that on our behalf as well. He loves it when we sing “Halfway Up the Stairs” and we all sit together on the bottom stair (cheating I know but the stairgate stops us at the moment). He applauds us when we’ve finished and then re-arranges our sitting positions for us.
He is such a happy little man and, once again, he has been with us all day and not cried or complained once.