An Open Letter to She-Toddlers Everywhere

(As dictated from the Girl to the Laundering Editor.  Who, incidentally, really doesn’t recommend the event described below to anyone.)

Dear Fellow She-Toddlers

If you’re in need of some extra attention from your parents (or indeed, any at all), then READ ON.  This is GUARANTEED to get you noticed, cuddled, and kissed, not to mention showered with hours – days, even - of one-on-one attention.  

I should however warn you that it’s not without its drawbacks:  it HURTS like hell, for one.  It also leads to a curtailment of alot of toddler activity (like jumping, running, skipping, flinging yourself off the sofa, etc). And – sorry boys – it really is confined to us ladies only.

Also, I’m not entirely sure what its technical term is, so you’ll just have to use your imagination.  In our house it’s called “blood bottom”; the words the big people used were “torn perin...something-or-other”.  Maybe it’s just easier to tell you what I did, and you can go about doing it yourselves.  It was nothing really – just the usual tomfoolery on the sofa.  Mind you, I was naked (who needs clothes?) and a bit hot and sweaty from being chased around by my demented big brother.  So there I was, one minute pretending to be a bouncy-ball, and the next, one leg was caught between the cushions and the other was somewhere else and I slipped and fell and... OUCH.  IT HURT.  Between my legs, REALLY REALLY SORE.  I howled, and the he-giant came over and picked me up and gave me some cuddles, which was nice, but really, it was the she-giant I was after.  I LOVE HER SO MUCH, I could just CRAWL back inside her.  Anyway, she was dealing with an upturned carton of milk so I kept up the howling, when suddenly my brother gasped, pointed and shouted “she’s got BLOOD BOTTOM!!”, and Ha! she dropped the milk carton and came bounding over! 

And then I looked down and really got a shock, because I DID have Blood Bottom – quite alot of Blood Bottom.  And then I looked at the she-giant, who looked back at me, and she did not look well at all. She grabbed me and lay me down and inspected between my legs, and then stood up and put her hands to her face and looked very very shaken, and saying something about... stitches... Could that be the word?  And another one:  hospital.  By now – and this was the BEST bit – the Boy was almost crying and saying that he loved me so so much and he didn’t want me to go to hospital, and then the she-giant had wrapped me up in a blankie and was cuddling me to her, and oh! it was SO great. Even if Blood Bottom was very very sore.

So then we went in the car to a big building where the rooms are all white and I was given stickers and a funny monkey doll, and a really really old man with hairs growing out of his nose said I didn’t need the stitches thing, and the she-giant started to look a bit better.  But then another person came in and gave her a piece of paper and when she looked at it she went all white and put her hands to her face again. And then she took out her wallet and gave the woman a plastic card and looked like she was going to be sick.  

Afterwards the she-giant wouldn’t let me go all day long.  She brought me – just me!  On my own!  - to a smelly place where they make brown drinks in tall paper cups, and people sit looking at tv screens on their laps full of words (what does it mean, “writing a novel”?), and we had some juice and cake, and she let me cuddle right into her and didn’t once tell me to STOP KICKING THE BUMP, and then later, when the Boy arrived, she wouldn’t let him sit on her and she didn’t see me giving him the Evil Eye which makes him CRAZY.  When we got home she made me sit on her lap while everyone else played in the pool but I didn’t care because I had her all to myself.  Although I cared quite alot when I had to do a poo and IT HURT and then I had Blood Bottom again, which, although sore, was worth it, because she had to stop making dinner and then sat with me on her knee again for ages and ages. AND I didn’t have to have a bath, and any time the Boy came near me, she sent him away, and didn’t say a thing any time I tried to kick him, just gently closed my legs together again and hugged me to her. 

But, like I said, it’s not without its downsides.  Any time I try to run or play or be a bouncy-ball again I’m told to STOP.  And it still hurts.  But in terms of all-engulfing, non-stop attention, it cannot be beaten.  And BEST OF ALL – any time you think that Blood Bottom is getting better, you just throw your legs apart and – ta da! Blood Bottom all over again = hugs = THE BEST THING EVER.

Oh, and she made me these too.  Which, for some reason, made both my Daddy and my brother laugh and snigger.

Chocolate covered frozen bananas

You need:

• Bananas, chopped up (however you like)
• A large bar of good dark chocolate, melted with a splash of milk over a low heat, until smooth.

Cover the banana pieces completely with the melted chocolate.  Stick in the freezer on a greaseproof sheet (or, in my case, a plate) for at least an hour.  Try your best to make them look photogenic.  Fail.  Hand to children using either a cocktail stick, a corn-holder, or just their bare, grubby hands.  Have wipes handy (particularly if you’re staying in your in-laws’ house).

“Chef’s” caveat:  there is no way I could make these look anything other than revolting. Sorry about that.  They’re so so easy tho, and taste great.  AND are mostly banana, which the kids didn’t seem to notice.  To deflect from the scatological connections any of you might – understandably – make, here’s a picture of something else I made today (it’s non-stop hugs and treats in our house at the moment).  These were these, made with two eggs, and equal weight of butter, sugar and self-raising flour, and four heaped teaspoons of decent cocoa powder.  All creamed together then put in a hot – 180c / 350f – oven for 20 mins.  Covered in melted chocolate and topped with whatever you have to hand (banana, in my case).