Last Thursday MoonMunkie developed a tummy upset. She’d happily go into school bleeding from the head with a broken arm and a temperature of 40 degrees. But schools have rules about cross-contamination and so I had to keep her at home. That very same day MiniMunkie decided to get up before the birds. So by the time it got to 7.30 am I was ready for an IV caffeine drip. So was MiniMunkie. She’s not one for negotiation and compromise at the best of times, being completely certain that her way is the Right Way. (Extensions of the Munkie family will be mirthfully coughing into their hankies at this point, and trying to refrain from sarcastically wondering where she gets that characteristic from… I couldn’t possibly comment!) But a tired MiniMunkie is a force to be reckoned with on a global scale. Conflict began with the 8am Eeyore Disturbance. Ownership was settled through independent 3rd party mediators in MiniMunkie’s favour so I had hoped it would end there.
However it was soon followed by Blankey Incursions (Parts A, B and C), harder to settle because, although official status was designated by a United Nations Protocol the previous weekend, the development of illness in one party did seem to justify a temporary loan of said Blankey. This had to be secured with a mutual hostage exchange and a 450 page contract specifying the terms of the loan, period of useage, sanctions for late completion and assurances that it wouldn’t smell weird when it was returned.
The Lemur Hostility of 8.15 ensued. No one could work out whether she was cross with the lemur or if the lemur was collateral damage in a guerilla attack from Dolly and pink flowery teapot. In MiniMunkie’s defence, it is very annoying when a lid won’t go on properly and violence towards lemurs can often be justified in such situations.
Then came the Teddy Bear Discord of 8.25 which resulted in MoonMunkie becoming a target for guerilla attack which meant that MiniMunkie incurred sanctions from NATO and a well justified Sit on the Stairs. However, her compliance with the terms of her release was short-lived and she very quickly escalated the conflict into a full-on Buggy War. The UN peacekeepers stepped in to remove the problem to her bed, under great protest and duress, but to the great relief of all lemurs, teapots, and poorly Munkies in the region.
Oh my, but my littlest girl is so fiery and so tender. When she’d had a rest she was back to her own affectionate self, fussing like a mother hen over her dollies and her poorly big sister. She makes my heart float. And her temper-flare is so like my own that I can barely withhold a smile, even when she is causing grievous harm to innocent Madagascan primates.
MiniMunkie is growing up so quickly. She knows her own mind. We all know her own mind. I caught her asking (well … ordering, really) MisterMunkie to go to the shops to buy grapes this morning. The fruit bowl was full with other stuff: apples, clementines, bananas, kiwi fruit, but no grapes. They’d all been eaten. I’m not naming the culprit, but she’s shorter than 3ft tall and thinks that we can’t see her if her eyes are closed.
She’s worked out that we go to the shops when things run out. So now it’s “Grapes? Shop? Yes?” and “Chocolate? Shop? Yes?” The child doesn’t eat enough to keep a fly alive, but grapes and chocolate she has no problem at all with. I’ve decided not to have fights with her about food*. She’s still breastfeeding on demand** and so I’m pretty confident she’s getting everything she needs. Then there are her energy levels which tend to run on one of two settings: maximum or overload. And there are no flies on her. She could out negotiate John Adams, as the little “incident” below shows.
MamaMunkie: Please don’t bite MoonMunkie. It’s not kind.
MamaMunkie: Not when you’re hungry.
MamaMunkie: No biting. Not even if you’re a tiger.
You see? Only 2 and already she knows that there are grey areas in life if you just search hard enough for them. I love that she’s developing empathy as well. She now signs and lisps “sorry” if she thinks she’s hurt you and comes over to give a kiss to “make better”. She says “please” and ” ‘ank oo” and if you sneeze she proudly exclaims “Bess oo!” It’s so much fun watching her grow up.
* insert sharp inhalation of disapproval
** insert frown and disappointed shaking of the head
MiniMunkie is not the world’s best sleeper. She’s far too curious and busy to waste time with her eyes closed. She’s also very clever and comes up with a lot of cunning reasons why she should be allowed to stay up.
- She needs a drink. But not from THAT cup. Or that one!
- Her foot is sad.
- There’s a bee. Somewhere.
- Her pink fluffy turtle is thirsty.
- She needs her blanket. Not touching her. But closer than THAT.
- There are blackberries in the fridge.
- MoonMunkie is there.
- MoonMunkie isn’t there.
- She needs her baby doll. The other one. With the dress that got lost a month ago.
- Mummy is naughty.
- The chair isn’t in quite the right place. Now it’s in the right place but at the wrong angle. Bit more to the left. Back again. Left a bit more. There. Just right.
- There’s an unidentifiable noise which can only be heard by bats and MiniMunkie but it’s very annoying.
- She needs someone to hold her hand.
- She doesn’t want anyone to hold her hand.
- MamaMunkie is not wearing her glasses.
- She she’s not tired. Munkies don’t get tired. She’s never been tired. We can’t prove she’s tired so … Zzzzzz Zzzzzzz Zzzzzzz Zzzzzzzz
Welcome to MoonMunkie’s Suspicious Asparagus, the place to explore the world from child’s eye view. And today we’re beginning with the original Suspicious Asparagus Event that inspired this page. MiniMunkie has a unique take on the world. Don’t say you weren’t warned!
The Modern Guide to Asparagus Dining, by MiniMunkie.
Step One: Ignore asparagus until it is the final item on your plate. It tastes better when it’s stone cold.
Step Two: Poke it a bit with your finger to make sure it’s been correctly dispatched. Many an unsuspecting diner has been killed or maimed by asparagus that was just playing dead.
Step Three: Hold asparagus in a pincer grip and wave it furiously around the table. This aerates the asparagus making it tender and tasty.
Step Four: Dip it into lime squash. This step is so obvious that it needs no further explanation.
Step Five: Rub it carefully through your hair to remove loose scales and avoid choking. Better restaurants will provide a comb amongst the silverware for use after Step 5.
Step 6: Take a small bite, remembering to maintain the correct facial expression. It should suggest that the chef has mistakenly served up woodlouse in a piquant wasp sauce.
Step 7: Don’t chew as this can ruin the flavour. Scrape the asparagus off your tongue and dump the remaining stem on the floor.
Don’t be caught out. Etiquette and manners are among the most important elements of a person’s character and personality.
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