The Magic Number

Following on from April’s Five post, today brings with it my daughter’s third birthday. Scoop, as she is affectionately known (because of her innate ability and regular wish to be scooped up and carried by her dad), has brought 36 months of pleasure, insomnia, love and laughter into our lives.

As she and the 6000 family hit this milestone, whereby choking hazards become a thing of the past, I’d like to dedicate this song to the next year of her life – let’s hope it’s a magic year:

Happy Birthday, Scoopy!

Easy Life

It’s a pleasant 28°C today, although the SouthEaster blowing through made me wonder if Lionel Ritchie was in Cape Town on the weekend back in ’77 when he wrote the hit Breezy Like Sunday Morning. Either way, it doesn’t remind me in any way, shape or form of the Decembers of my youth, but Kpu has been making use of the “rocky-beddy” (Hammock) to get some R&R in the back garden today. I’d have been hypothermic if I’d tried that when I was her age.

Dad’s job was to sit next to her like some sort of colonial servant and rock the hammock gently from side to side as she sang to herself and looked glamorous.

Tough life, hey?