“But I don’t want to read!” She screams as I sit at the dining table waiting for her latest little tantrum to blow over. I watch her stamp her feet and crawl under the table in protest. Great! I think to myself as I munch on the almonds and nuts that were supposed to be a light snack for my little mentalist
Now this gets me thinking, where in gods name has my sweet girl disappeared to? Where is that sweet adoring little toddler that use to hang on my every word?
Well she isn’t that bad, but does tend to have a lot more little tantrums. As she makes herself at home under the table my thoughts turn to her younger years. I still cannot believe my youngest is now going to be turning five and my oldest thirteen! The phrase ‘time flies’ gets thrown around a lot, but for me it’s only at moments like this it really hits home and I begin to realise just how true that is.
My brat storming into his teens, my youngest turning into a little diva (okay, okay she’s not bad) its at this point a question brings itself to the forefront of my mind. A question I really don’t want to pay attention to nor is it something I want to answer, but the question still remains …. ‘Am I getting old?!’
The answer to that question I’m still not ready to answer, I’m sure I’ll have to address the whole age thing one day.. But not today, not this month, Not this year (you get the picture). So as I sit there contemplating my age, she pokes her head out from under the table and with a giggle invites me to her new digs and it’s at that point I realise, i may be getting older but it’s my brat and my mentalist that keep me young…
This is Mr J signing out