Recently one morning I was sitting on the sofa, minding my own business & attempting to think about something, probably. Then I felt something on my head. Ellie had climbed up on the sofa behind me & was rubbing her hands through my hair.
“How nice”, I thought, “My loving little girl is giving her dear old Daddy a head massage”. As I later found out she actually had chocolate ice-cream on her hands & was being a bit creative in getting them clean…
Ellie, getting into her dinner-chair, & again impressing me with her command of complex sentences: “This is mine isn’t it?”.
In the car the Mummy is trying to explain to me the complex machinations of what’s going on with Michael Jackson’s kids: “So Janet & another brother broke into the Grandma’s house while she was on holiday & the kids were left there, then…”
“So the Grandma has custody?”
Then a little voice from the back seat: “I like custard”, “And me!”.
And, quite frankly, I think our kids are a lot better off than the Jacksons, money or not, even if they don’t always have custard!