Daddy and I have been busy over the last two weeks of the holiday. He has been painting the house and I have been helping him. Sometimes I help him by wobbling the ladder when he has been up it for too long, sometimes I help him by playing with the dirty brushes when he goes inside to go to the toilet. The other day Daddy asked me if I could help him by locking myself in a cupboard, but I couldn’t see how this would help him so I kicked over a paint can instead.
One thing that is a bit irritating about painting is that you always have to wear a hat and sunblock. I asked Daddy how you made sunblock the other day and he said he didn’t know (why do I even bother?). It seems sort of obvious if you think about it a bit though. I asked Daddy if a hat was like a roof for your head and he said yes, so I think that sun block must be some kind of cream and some kind of roof mixed together.
When Daddy isn’t painting he sometimes helps me develop my musical skills. He drops some beats and I lay down the vocals. After lunch one day I felt like busting out some raps and we jammed something called Libby.
Here are the words in case you want to sing-a-long.
Libby… come on let’s play together
It’s fun to play together
Libby is my bestest friend
No one knows that except me and Libby
Libby, Libby, let’s play together
Probably one day I will record this properly. The vocal was alright, but I need a better keyboard player.
We had to take the car to the garage yesterday. Daddy took my scooter so that I could ride it on the way back home. I like scooting but sometimes my scooting leg gets tired. Daddy asked me why I didn’t just change legs, and scoot with the other leg. I had to explain to Daddy about how legs and arms have specific jobs. My right leg is my scooting leg, my left leg is my pedalling leg, my left hand is for brushing teeth, and my right hand is for eating. It’s important to have the jobs sorted out because otherwise you might try to brush your teeth with your right leg. I could probably do this, but Daddy sounds like a rusty folding deck chair when he tries to copy my ballet stretches so I don’t think he could.
I had my haircut two days ago. It looks nice. At dinner I told Mummy that I could probably get a boyfriend now, and she seemed surprised. I thought this was a bit rude. She asked me what kind of boyfriend I would want. I think an older boy would be better, maybe nine or ten. The boys my own age seem quite silly. They like making farting noises and shoving each other. I can talk about poo for hours but I draw the line at farting noises. Mummy agreed, but said I shouldn’t hope for too much when it came to boys in the future. Daddy told me to finish my beans.
School starts again on Tuesday. It will be nice to get back and have a break from keeping Daddy entertained all day everyday. He is usually fine, but sometimes his behaviour is terrible: “I want to do this, I want to do that, I don’t want to play with you now, don’t talk in my ear when I’m on the telephone.” Me, me, me. Going back to school will be good for both of us. I can see my friends, and he can be someone elses’ problem for a while.