Being presented with a packet of cheese and onion crisps for my consumption at 5am Saturday morning, despite there not being any crisps of that flavour in the house, then being told by Lid to “eat it Mummy. In your mouth. Quick quick.”
The Boy and Lid playing with her doll’s house, and making it up as they went along (“This is Mario’s room, he shares it with Luigi and Sonic. Oh, tell Lotte and Lola to get off of the toilet, Lid.”).
Bringing Lid for some Mummy and Lid time, whereby I was dragged into every shop that featured anything even vaguely pink by an insatiable toddler who proceeded to baffle the shop assistants by being extremely fussy.
Having a cake with Lid, where she wiped icing all over my face and I couldn’t stop laughing, regardless of the horror of other patrons (whom we blew raspberries at).
Teaching The Boy a magic trick (the eponymous colouring book), with hand movements, and his delight at being able to baffle Himself.
Listening to The Boy go through all the vowels and consonent sounds individually, then launching into a monologue about how some words are not spelt right because they don’t match phonics (he’s right), and his explanations of how they should and would be spelt, were it to be done properly.
Lid jumping into bed with me at 3am, snuggling her freezing cold feet into my back, then sighing happily and murmuring “Mummy” with a clear smile in her voice.
The squabble that broke out between the two midgets over who liked Mummy more, and not in the Simpson-esque argument between Lisa and Bart (“You like her more.” “No, *you* like her more.”)
The Boy swimming, and absolutely adoring every second.
The realisation that he started punching me when we were getting changed out of our costumes wasn’t because he hated me, or because I had fucked up, or because I am a shit parent, rather because he was pissed off that he had to come out of the swimming pool. So, really he was hitting me because he likes me, he enjoyed spending time with me, he didn’t want that time to end, I had done right and I am a good parent (although I admit that that caused me some conceptual trouble to get my head round).
On getting home, The Boy walking up to Lid, giving her a big cuddle and saying “See? I told you I wouldn’t be a minute didn’t I? Did you have a good time with Daddy?” Then, after ruffling her hair, saying “I missed you” to her, before trotting off to raid the kitchen.
Lid, when she spies me, tapping her legs to beckon me, and calling, with outstretched arms “Mummy! You’re back! Come here and give me a cuddle!”, then delivering threefold with an engulfing cuddle.
The Boy telling Himself that he has liked going swimming with Mummy, even though she makes him try, but really, he likes that she makes him try “because it means that she won’t give up and neither can I. I’m not being beaten by a girl” (italics said with utter contempt).
The big kiss The Boy gave me before he went to bed, as he told me he loved swimming and loved me.
Lid getting up at 8pm again, so even though I missed out on a few hours sleep before work, I got a big cuddle instead.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
What makes you smile?