A little while ago my Mum got the kids some of those little mannequin-type things with all the joints, that artists use to do anatomically correct drawings. I’m not sure a six and nine year old are quite ready for anatomically correct anything yet, but there they sit, on the desks, and at the ready, should the need arise. For anatomical correctness.
Over the last few days I guess I’ve been a bit preoccupied, what with trips down to Sydney to say goodbye to Hayley, and then back home to work, and organise our trip back down South for the funeral. So the kids have been playing in their bedrooms a lot. Sylvanian Familes, Puppy School, Musical Shows… You know, the usual harmless and innocent make-believe fun.
The latest game has been “Exercise Class” where one child uses the little wooden mannequin to create a pose, and the other child tries their best to mimic that pose. Kind of like Twister for two, or, as I like to think, Children’s Pure Yoga.
This morning I went into Coco’s bedroom to find this on her desk:
So, yeah. Nothing Suss here people.
Perhaps it’s time for “the talk”?
We have a cat. I hope the cat is wary.
Anything weird happen at your place this weekend?