I was about to go and have a bath to see if I could soak away the remains of this pounding headache, and then make small, vomity child have a bath to soak away the smells of ground in vomit.
But then I realised that the bath is where Jason has been stashing vomity bed clothes all night, and it is still half full.
So, no bath right now.
While I am waiting for Migraleve to work its soothing magic, and while I am waiting to load up the washing machine once more, I thought I would pop back here and tell you about Oscar’s increasing eccentricity.
He has decided that he thoroughly enjoys being weird, and has been pursuing weirdness to the top of his bent this week.
To add to the constant need to tell more and more elaborate fibs to his friends he has also:
Asked to be the ‘third clam’ when the question of who would be who in the Nativity play was mooted this week. When told that there was no clam, third, second or first, he asked if he could be ‘last seahorse’ instead.
He is going to be a soldier.
Apparently I have to bling up his soldier’s uniform as it is ‘a bit dull’ I have been reliably informed.
He has also taken to making strange elongated ‘fake eyebrow’ shapes with his fingers over his brow bone, while shouting: ‘I am a vegan’ in a falsetto, squeaky voice.
He first did this at dinner one evening this week. Tilly said: ‘You don’t even know what a vegan is, do you?’
He replied (insouciantly): ‘No!’ and then did the hand wiggle thing again: ‘BUT I AM A VEGAN!’
He was tucking into a handful of Smarties at the time. Tilly said: ‘If you really were a vegan you wouldn’t be able to eat those Smarties.’
He crammed his cheeks with them until they were hamster full and said loudly, but in a muffled, mouth full of Smarties way: ‘THEY’RE VEGAN SMARTIES’.
We have tried to explain what a vegan actually is, but we have the nagging feeling that he thinks that a vegan is some kind of alien.
Jason says he thinks this might actually be true.
He was chosen, earlier in the week, to be the priest in the role play they did in RE for baptism. He took his role very seriously, according to him. I have seen photos for the wall display, and mostly he looks like he is giggling his pants off. And accidentally setting fire to the baby’s head with a badly placed candle.
He is now a world expert on a) being a priest, and b) baptising babies. He keeps strolling around saying: ‘Well, when I baptise babies it usually goes like this….’
Given his propensity for setting them on fire, I am glad there are no emergency baby baptism situations he can leap to the rescue in, although he is entirely confident he could deal with them.
His lying continues apace. I would not like you to think he is fickle, and abandoned lying for a life of mere eccentricity. Oh no. It is preferable if you can combine the two hobbies. It’s much more effective that way.
He came home yesterday telling me that he had told his friends about how when Jason was small he got a Tic Tac stuck up his nose.
This is true. He did get a Tic Tac stuck up his nose.
What is not true is that when he went to hospital to have the Tic Tac removed, that they had to place him bodily in a machine which shook him up and down until the Tic Tac shout out of his nose again.
Although I wish it were true.