On the way home from dropping Emma off for her classes last Friday we drove past a McDonald’s. Toby said “look Dad, there’s a big yellow M!” Yes, indeed it was. Then after a pause, “Daddy, I think I want to buy a hamburger”.
Last night someone asked him if he wanted to sing in the choir like his daddy. He said “no, because I don’t have a big mouth like my dad.” This comes, apart from the obvious, from the fact that he had his school holiday show on Tuesday night. Unfortunately he’d just changed classes at school the week before so didn’t manage to learn the songs in time. Plus they were bizarre for 3-year-olds: the Little Drummer Boy, Deck the Halls and Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. So he stood on the stage looking rather unsure of himself (as, in fact did most of the other kids) while one or two kind of shouted out the words. He clearly knew he didn’t know it, and I think one of the bossy older girls told him so too, which is the first time I think someone has been just negative to him. Afterwards he gave me a very tight hug and said “Daddy, I just didn’t want to go up there.” I told him he’d done a great job just to stay, and after a cookie he seemd to perk up considerably and zoom off for some running and jumping with his friends.