Grumbling Tummy

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My wee sister had a physio appointment at lunchtime, so it was up to Uncle John to babysit the nephew. Perhaps “babysit” is the wrong word as he keeps informing me:

“I’m not the baby! The baby is in mummy’s tummy!”

Well he is kind of correct as she is knocked up and almost ready to drop. He even seems to know how it is coming out. To quote the three year old little darlin’:

“It comes out of mummy’s hairy!”

My gran will not approve of him knowing this type of stuff.

“We knew nothing in our day!”, is one of her favourite sayings.

Now I’m not going to say the wee darlin’ is mental or anything, but his obsession with all things motor vehicle is a little alarming: it is carrr this, carrr that; lorr-aye this, lorr-aye that; twuck this, twuck that. Actually for a while there “truck” was sounding a little like … well it’s a swear word that rhymes with truck!

Thank goodness wee sis was only away for a short time. She made us all a cuppa to go with some biscuits. Needless to say the biscuit in the nephew’s hand wasn’t going to remain that shape for long: he is now in a dunking phase. Unfortunately the biscuit decided it would rather be infused into his tea than gulped down!