1. Bottled Treasure

2. Forbidden Treasure

3. Little Treasures

I heard Son 2 aged 14m at about 0605, and left him. He didn’t sound too bad… but then started to get louder and I went in at about 0645. He wanted food and milk, so we went downstairs. I gave him a snack and then got my bottom smacked by a gorgeous, grinning, blue-eyed younger man. Aged 4y 2m. We had a reasonably sedate start to the day, although I had to be dressed for the BT engineer who was coming at 8am. And I had a huge, lethally-jagged broken whisky bottle to give the recycling men. Well over 20 years since it contained whisky. Son 1 broke it yesterday. “Why did you keep playing with it when everyone told you not to?” “Because of the money inside.”

The BT engineer didn’t turn up, so out we went. We saw a neighbour from next-door-but-two, and asked about the burglary. Credit card swipe entry on a yale lock at 5pm, went in, took a laptop, iPod and money, then walked into the next room, was surprised by someone there and then strolled out, carrying the gear. We went to the Museum. Son 2 was walking round, triumphant, independent, and wearing his Aren’t-I-Great face. Then a 2 year old pinched him. The saddest, mouth-turned down, can’t-breathe-too-upset expression ever, and he dissolved into lengthy howls. Son 1 and his 4 year old friend were in pirate costumes. Son 1 had kindly taken the friend a sword so they could both fight. Son 1’s sword was twice the length of the one he lent his friend. They sat side-by-side at the crayoning table. Pens, paper, glitter, glue, an odds-and-ends box and scissors had been provided for children to make Christmas Cards. Son 1 and his friend made Treasure Maps instead.

Our friends weren’t lunching, so the boys ate snacks and sandwiches, and then I got them a plate of chips while I had a coffee. They were great, they sat together, they ate their chips, they drank their drinks, they played with each other, they chatted (Son 1) and chirruped (Son 2.) Back at the house Son 2 insisted on playing outside in the front garden. He got a man to say “hello,” within minutes… and Son 1 was chatty to another one of our neighbours from way down the Terrace. She’s always stopped to talk to him, and he’s always hidden behind my legs/coat and done the Shy Boy routine. Again, good to see him with a bit more social confidence. We raced across the gravel, all three of us, me holding Son 2’s hands, Son 1 winning each time, Son 2 giggling, squealing and hooting till his legs couldn’t run any more.