Warning: this post may contain traces of poo.
The twins have quite a Roman attitude towards the toilet. Ellie, in particular, seems to see doing one’s business as a social event.
In the demarcation of duties between me & the Mummy the role of ‘Toilet Attendant’ somehow seems to have gone on my CV. I think ‘Skilful Negotiator’ is very probably on hers…
When she’s on her throne Ellie likes to chat, with me.
I say “likes to chat”; I really mean “insists on chatting”. She can be very determined: “Daddy, come & have a chat with me! Sit there!”. It is my place to sit on the side of the bath. So we can “chat”.
And actually it’s alright; nice even. She’s mature enough & skilled enough in language now that we can have something like a “So how was your day?” conversation. With a little extra, sometimes uncomfortable, punctuation. And some slightly odd facial expressions.
I’ll ask her what she did today, & what she liked the most. And, after a bit of prompting, she can answer. I still really haven’t got used to my little babies, who for so long could only cry & gurgle, now having proper little conversations with us!
And as someone who isn’t naturally talkative or outgoing it adds extra demands on me, & adds to my skill set. And so is very good for me as well!
Of course the opposite is true too. When the Mummy or I have to answer nature’s call Jallie see it as an open invitation. They really can’t understand why we might want privacy.
Well we tweet from there don’t we? (Or so I’m told). And they don’t have a twitter account (yet) so why not? I guess.
Which reminds me: I really must get that lock fixed…