Level 2 Chi Kung. Microcosmic orbit.
Dash came home from school yesterday with an insect bite on his right cheek. He had no idea what might have bitten him. He woke this morning with his cheek a bright angry red and so swollen that the right side of his face looked like it belonged to a different (and much much fatter!) person. Poor darling.
Dropped Katie at Stagecoach then home to collect Dash for guitar. I thought I would head Mr Baulch off at the pass (so to speak) so, as soon as he started to say that Dash looked somehow different, I said ‘It’s an insect bite’. But no, Mr Baulch was referring to the fact that Dash had had a haircut, and couldn’t resist suggesting that, like Samson, Dash would have lost all his strength. Given that Dash, having finally accepted that he can’t be a lion when he grows up, has decided that his back-up plan is to be a superhero, this did not go down well! Dash was clearly unhappy but confined himself to rather solemnly pointing out that Mr Baulch was incorrect, in fact Samson didn’t lose all his strength, his strength was merely reduced to that of an ordinary strong man.
Collected Katie from Stagecoach and whipped her back to the Age Exchange where, to celebrate the start of half term, they had artists waiting to provide free face painting! Unusually, there wasn’t even a queue – in fact Katie was initially the only little customer. Having carefully chosen a butterfly design which didn’t cover her lips, she felt able to tackle a ham and cheese toastie and a glass of milk without risking the artwork!
For the last week or so, Katie has been saying that she would like her and I to have a baking day once a month. Actually, I bake more than once a month anyway but I gather she has in mind a day where she chooses what we bake. As always with Katie, the baking day idea quickly began to evolve into a baking day cum party, but, she assured me, only for the family. Chatting on the way home from the Age Exchange however, it became clear that she is intending to invite a dozen of her closest friends and that one of them is bringing a disco ball! I love that she is not only a dyed-in-the-wool extrovert, but a bit of a party fiend, but I did extract a solemn promise that she won’t actually give out invitations until she and I have agreed a date.