little dog big dog

After a weekend of camping, I didn't feel guilty at all about having a day at home, outwith the fresh air.

Arlo was delighted by this - and spent most of the day hurling himself onto Big Dog (all these dogs are getting confusing. Corndog, little Dog, Wifey Dog, The Family Dog. Big Dog. We'll be calling Boris Cat Dog soon. It's like 'the blue thing'. We have had about 8 different 'blue things' that we use in every day language - 'where's the remote control?' 'It's on the blue thing (the foot stool)', 'where did I put my glasses?' 'on top of the blue thing (the tv stand thing)', 'I thought we had spare keys?' 'yes, they're in the blue thing (a blue box on our bookshelf)', christ it got confusing. We got rid of all but one blue thing and life is so much simpler) and cackling with laughter. He's developed a few things of late:

1) a dirty cackle that requires full open wide mouth and a drawl that wouldn't be out of place in the deep south

2) a hideous attention-demanding, blood curdling scream that we try to ignore (but is bloody hard to) until he has screamed himself so raw that he ends up coughing and then looking around for water. It's bloody hilarious, very hard to keep a laugh in when that goes on.

3) the word 'no'. Funnily enough I was only just reading the other day that when they learn the word 'no' it doesn't stop. The book suggested using words other than 'no' but that's just impossible. When he's hurling himself off the bench head first or trying to pull the oven door open the first word out of my mouth is 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'. Oh well.

God. It's all quite hard work, I have to say! Ooh lovely, bed is calling.

Night night x