Oskar and I picked Molly up from the school in our car. Her hands were filthy because she was hunting for dinosaur’s eggs in the mud under the slide.
So in the car I said: “Molly, please don’t touch Oskar’s face. Your hands are very dirty.”
“OK, sure… THEN YOU CAN JUST LISTEN TO HIM CRY ALL THE WAY HOME!”
Almost seven years ago I gave birth to a sweet baby who’s slowly turning into a sarcastic, irritable and generally unpleasant flatmate.