So the project of the weekend (apart from a trip to the seaside, which was FAB) was to teach Jack how to use the toaster. One of his friend's parents said to me last week that he was plenty old enough to do more stuff for himself. So I taught him how to make toast, and he was pretty pleased with himself.
This morning we woke up quite early, so I said "you can bring me my toast in bed if you like." Off he went, and ten minutes later reappeared with a plate of toast in each hand, concentrating so hard so as not to drop the toast or the butter knife. His hair (dark brown like mine) is quite long at the moment, and the look of concentration on his face, with his fringe flopping over his eyes, was a sight to behold.
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