George is a glass act

I really wish I could read George's mind. He's at that age when he knows what he wants, or wants to say, but can't actually say it – and we're left guessing while he makes squeaky noises. It would help if he could do the "ur-urrr" noise from Family Fortunes – at least then we'd know we were wrong and could move on to the next item in the cupboard/on the shelf/in the dish.

Sometimes we know exactly what he's thinking – and he knows exactly what we're thinking too. Like the time this week when he made us laugh by pressing his nose up to the French windows and pulling funny faces. Of course, we laughed uproariously and the more we laughed the more he realised he was being funny and the more he pulled faces.

The unfunny side of this was the fact that mummy had cleaned the glass of sticky fingerprints just the day before – only for them to be replenished and enhanced with tongue, nose and mouth marks.

I actually quite like the sticky handprints on the glass. There's something translucently beautiful about them (probably just because they're George's and I'm a big soppy dad), but the more perfectly formed prints remind me of the etched glass frontage of Coventry Cathedral – only on a much smaller and slightly grubbier scale.

Anyway, changing the subject, here's why mummy isn't let loose with the video camera very often...