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Thursday 22nd November 2007
The use of zinc to repair moth wings, part 7 Yes, yes, yes, it's all fine. A****** now sleeps in a normal (single) bed. We made it tonight, it having arrived some time this afternoon. Erm . . . what else? Hello? Some things might have happened. A****** seems to be ever more vocal. Recently, M**** was doing a late shift and so I made me and A****** some dinner. Afterwards we had yoghurt. I'm sat there, playing some Beethoven on the piano whilst A****** eats his yoghurt, and A****** is like, "Daddy? Get off mummy's piano, please." (although he tends to say 'peas' instead of 'please', but hey) So yeah . . . and I'm like, "Erm, right. A******, little story here. This is daddy's piano, okay? This was my granny's piano, okay? And my granny, yeah . . . " but he had lost interest, so I carried on playing. "Daddy? Daddy? Get off mummy's piano, peas." Yeah, whatever. Cheeky little monkey. We also tried to explain the fact that his mummy is pregnant, but then he looked at us both, confused, and lifted up his own t-shirt to see if he had a baby there too. Ah well. Ne'er mind, eh?
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