Colour pop

The Boy Wonder is staying with R and me for the weekend, for the first time in over six months. This morning we rendezvoused with L in the car park at Slimbridge to make the handover (which seemed to involve only about a quarter of the luggage B used to travel with), and once we'd confirmed the arrangements for the pick-up tomorrow, she set off homewards and R, B and I went into the reserve.

Over lunch, which was juice and a sausage sandwich for B, and for R and me coffee and the Boy's chips (meticulously divided by him between us), I asked him if anything was different at home since the last time R and I had been there. He explained in a very matter-of-fact way that the Baby Brother has grown too big to use a cot, so the two of them now have bunk beds, with the Bother sleeping on the bottom and B on the top. "Unless he cries," he said. "Then I climb down and get into bed with him till he's happy again." As the Brother is barely ten months old we really should have smelt a rat here, but the explanation flowed so beautifully and hung together so perfectly that R and I just looked at each other wide-eyed, and said, "Gosh! That is a big change!"

"Is anything else different?" I asked. "Yes," said B. "Downstairs Mummy has painted all the doors black, and all the walls pink." Gullible I might be, but I can spot an over-egged pudding when I'm offered it. 

"Is that really true," I asked him gently, "or is it... a story?" He dipped his head and looked at me sideways under his eyelashes, smiling his most winsome smile and chuckling in satisfaction. R and I laughed along and told him that he'd pranked us very cleverly, and then I said, "So... are the bunk beds a real thing, or are they a funny story too?" Another dip of the head and more chuckling confirmed that we'd been pretty thoroughly had. 

After lunch we made a quick tour of the nearer parts of the reserve, where the biggest hit was a series of huge Lego animals and birds they have dotted about. When the Boy found an owl in the soft play area, he was almost as excited as I was. Then we came home, where it emerged that much of B's minimalist luggage was taken up by a large tin of cheese straws. The Boy explained how he and Mummy had made these for us, and I said "They look absolutely delicious! Let's try them." He looked at me as if I was suggesting feeding him gravel, and said, "No. I don't like cheese straws. I do like chocolate biscuits though," and proceeded to start raiding the cupboards. 

He's an adorable child and we're loving having him to stay, but it feels as though we're sadly out of practice at not having rings run around us. Time to get back in training, I think.