Yesterday the day poured with rain and this morning there is a heavy mist draping itself over all the houses. Everything is still and quiet except for the occasional drip from a tree or gutter. Wren is well on her way to being weaned. She grabs whatever is put in front of her in a tight little fist and pushes it determinedly into her mouth. She appears to have quickly cottoned onto the fact that, in this house, if she isn’t quick there won’t be much left. Saying that, she mainly ops for carbs and anything vaguely healthy is given a brief swirl around her mouth before being rejected into her bib.
The Thursday before half term I helped out with the school disco. I was on the stall selling glow sticks and other similar sorts of booty. I tend to avoid the tuck stall for all I’m worth. You take your life in your hands on the tuck stall. Although I had my fair share of curve balls I can tell you. One little boy asked me if he could have five pounds out of the kitty as he’d ‘accidentally’ spent his money! Another boy was deeply perplexed that everything he wanted on the stall had 50p in the price. £1.50 for a light up disco ball on a string or 50p for a glow necklace. His shoulders sagged sadly as he said, “But I don’t have 50p I only have this,” and held out a two pound coin.
“That’s fine,” I said, delighted to be able to put him out of his misery, “You can still buy what you want because a two pound coin is made up of four 50ps. I can give you the change.” He frowned at me and turned the coin over and over in his hand. “So what would you like?” I asked eagerly. But he shook his head, scrunched up his nose and wandered off. For the rest of the disco I could see him out of the corner of my eye, turning the coin over in his hand, looking at me, and shaking his head. He clearly thought I was completely bonkers. Four 50ps in a two pound coin! What nonsense!