Pasta banana

The bureaucratic hangover continues today: Chris and Flo left for Barca today while Theo and I await the conclusion of the passport saga.

Yesterday, I tried to teach Flo some handy Spanish phrases, managing a passable ‘hola’ and ‘una tarta helada por favor’. We concluded the lesson with saying ‘see you tomorrow’ (hasta manana, don’t you know) which was smartly transposed to ‘pasta banana’. My confidence as a teacher has been utterly undermined by a 4 year old, although she’ll probably have worked out how to order several different flavours of ice cream by the time we are all reunited – it’s in the genes.

Theo and I had an exciting day on four buses. Being on the top deck is amazing when you are nearly 3, and refreshing to see it anew for me. We companionably shared a margherita (pizza – what sort of parent do you think I am?) and chose me a new shiny lipstick in Boots. It was all so overwhelming that he fell asleep on my lap on the last bus, and conked out for the day before The Simpsons at 6. Today’s blog will be short, sweet and concisely paragraphed as tomorrow, I fear, will start at unreasonable o’clock.

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