Mr Dizzy, Mr Silly and Mr Skeleton

George really does enjoy his books and he has a few favourites, one of them being the Tickle Book which has flaps and tabs and is slowly starting to fall apart through repetitive pulling, tugging and grabbing. Among his other favourites are some Mr Men books, and these, quite literally, have been around for years. They were mummy's when she was little.

In most of George's books the only things emitting puffs of smoke are the trains, but in the Mr Men books the birds and pigs puff away too. I assume the books have been reprinted and reprinted over the years, but in the c-1976 versions I was amused to find these pics - in fact the words on the bird page said: 'Even the birds are clever in Cleverland!'.

Strange, how 30-odd years ago it was sort of acceptable to expose children to smoking, even in this subliminal way – nowadays it's a different story and George probably doesn't even know what a cigarette or a cigar is. The most exposure he's had to the habit was probably when we left the hospital with him just after he'd been born and we sadly had to walk through a gaggle of smokers standing outside the entrance – sort of a large outdoor ashtray with no-smoking signs everywhere – on our way to the car.

In case you were wondering, the bird is from the Mr Dizzy book and the pig, more appropriately, is from the Mr Silly book.

On Sunday, we had to go to B&Q. The 'had to' might sound a bit extreme, but our living room has been getting darker and darker. The thing is, every time we hit the lamp with the football the bulb goes (the football in question is a soft toy from Ikea and when I say we, I actually mean me). George has also bust a few bulbs by not looking where he's going and knocking the lamp off its perch. So a trip to B&Q was necessary in order to find our way to the kitchen in the hours of darkness.

Now, George doesn't often get wary or nervous, but at B&Q was a stand advertising some kind of pain relief/chiropractic service and next to it was a life-size plastic (I hope) skeleton. He's never seen a skeleton before and certainly wasn't keen on getting too close to it, but straight away he pointed and repeatedly shouted "man". It just made us wonder about how much he was registering and whether he realised that's what's under our skin... and how could he tell it was a man? After all it could have been a woman!

Anyway, our room is now filled with light, not too much that we're draining the National Grid, but just the right amount that we can see the Mr Men books properly.

Our special Valentine

As with Christmas cards to each other, we tend to recycle our St Valentine's Day cards too. However, after annual outings covering a good few years now, said cards are looking a little tired, and having gotten out of the habit of buying into the Valentine hype there were no cards on our shelf at all this year.

Of course, we both approved the 'no cards' deal before St Valentine's Day, so neither of us were disappointed – and besides, what we saved on fancy folded paper we used more practically (as these parsimonious times tend to dictate). And anyway, the thought that you need to follow the commercial line to prove your love is somewhat shallow and we're probably happier together than we've ever been.

Then, when St Valentine's Day arrived, we both received a card - and it wasn't from each other. George had spent part of his day at nursery sticking red tissue on to a bear holding a big heart – and even though he hasn't yet got a clue what St Valentine's Day is all about, we know he loves us when he runs to us, gives us a cheeky grin or flings his arms round our necks. I think both mummy and I agree – neither of us have had a better Valentine's card than this one...

Front:

Back: (I think George may have had a helping hand with his handwriting)

When George met Buddy

Buddy is a kitten who belongs to George's uncle, who decided to bring him round to meet George.

Trying to take a picture of the moment proved to be somewhat difficult – neither Buddy nor George would keep still for a split second as they weighed each other up and took turns chasing each other. Apart from a minor incident involving some ear pulling, they seemed to get along fine.

The hidden cost of childcare

This week nanna's washing machine decided to pack in – all the clothes she put in were coming out wet and unclean. She'd only just bought a new tumble drier as the old one had lived a long, warm and as full a life as is possible – and now the prospect of having to purchase a new washing machine was looming too.

First, though, she decided to call out the repair man who came the next morning and spotted the problem straight away. "Do you realise you've only got it on a 400 spin?"

And it was all down to George who, on nanna's day to do the childcare, had turned the dial from the position of 12 o'clock (1200 spin) to 6 o'clock (400 spin).

It's something we'll have to keep an eye on too – he loves pressing the on-off button on our washer as a row of red lights come to life every time the machine is called into action.

Thankfully, the repair man saw the amusing side and let nanna (and George) off with a warning!