Mia screeched, ‘Help! Mummy, help!’
‘Help what?’ I said.
‘Want to get those boxes over there!’ Mia was on her hands and knees, pointing deep under her bed.
‘Oh, I can’t reach, Mia. Only daddy can get those boxes. He has long arms. I have short arms.’
Hearing this, Mia sat back and was quiet. Then she shouted, ‘Mr Tickle!’
She jumped up and grabbed Mr Tickle from the top of her toybox. Then she threw herself under the bed, legs sticking out, and the sound of her straining to reach something.
Then I heard, ‘I did it! I did it!’ and two boxes were ejected out from under the bed.
Mia’s Mr Tickle toy is rather large.
Toddler Mia pointed up at a poster in the reception of the physiotherapist.
‘What’s she doing, mummy?’
‘She’s running, Mia,’ I said. ‘Running is healthy. People often run after they’ve done something unhealthy.’
Mia’s eyes widened and she gasped, ‘She ate chocolate!’
I used to be sad that the recycled toilet paper in the shops is terrible. I now buy Who Gives a Crap toilet paper (recycled paper) and tissues (bamboo / sugarcane). These are both strong and soft. Price-wise, they’re similar to other sustainable options in the shops.
I don’t usually give free advertising to companies but these people seriously solved my internal conflict between ethics and comfort.
Here’s Mia with our latest tissue delivery.
Mia carefully empties the box then announces, ‘Now I have a bath.’
Mia’s tissue box tower collapses and she says, ‘Hmm, better make a train.’
Mia: ‘I have a costume.’
Me: ‘What are you dressed as?’
Mia: ‘A ghost.’