Nanni never throws anything away.
Now that I am all of three years old, and therefore more or less grown-up, I feel qualified to give an opinion on this. Most people who
read my occasional blogs - this is Faris, by the way, in case you hadn't guessed - are impressed by the sheer number, thoughtfulness and forcefulness of my many Opinions. The capital "O" is mine, by the way.
will give you an example to prove my point. The top of Nanni's Easter cake was decorated with giant chocolate buttons and eight fluffy yellow chicks. No, not real chicks, don't be silly, even Nanni wouldn't go that far. She bought them from someone called
Mr McColl. I don't know who Mr McColl is, though presumably he is of Scottish origin and may possibly wear a kilt though Nanni was a bit vague on that subject. Mr McColl used to be called Martin, or perhaps he is still called Martin but likes to use his second
name. Martin McColl has a certain ring about it.
It was good of Mr McColl, anyway, even if his name isn't Martin and even if he doesn't wear a kilt, to sell the chicks to my Nanni. They did make a considerable
difference to the overall appearance of the Easter cake if only in terms of colour and, well, general fluffiness. To be honest they weren't as exciting as candles which can be lit and blown out but I didn't mention this, certainly not to Nanni who - whatever
else you may say about her - is always Very Trying. Indeed, I doubt if there are many people who are more trying. And I should know.
Anyway, back to the cake. Ever helpful, I removed all the chicks from the
cake before Nanni came to cut it. Which is when I noticed that their little claws were all sticky with the icing from the top of the cake. So what did Nanni do? She washed them, that's what. If you look on her draining board next to the sink you will see eight
yellow blobs, all wet and squashed and not the least bit fluffy. The bin would be the best place for them but you know Nanni, she can't throw anything away. When it comes to Fluffy Chick Rescue, she is in a Class of Her Own.
I know Nanni has written her own version of the events of Easter Sunday and I am not about to break her bubble by disagreeing with anything she has written. She did forget to mention what I thought was the most important development of the day which
is that The Twinkles have Discovered Upstairs.
I think I have told you before that Upstairs at Nanni's house is much more interesting than downstairs so I head in that direction almost as soon as I have stepped
over the threshold. "Up! Up!" I command in my most imperious voice. Imperious, as in loud. Nanni, ever obliging, follows me upstairs where I weigh myself on her bathroom scales, flush the loo several times, investigate all her Precious Jewels which she keeps
in a glass dish on her bedside table and play "Monkeys Bouncing on the Bed" in the front bedroom. Have you ever played that game? If not, you really are missing such a lot.
Nanni and I had just reached the
bit where we shake our fingers at each other and shout "No more monkeys bouncing on the bed!" when who should appear in the doorway but Tala and Lilia aka The Twinkles. Now they have found their feet those twins get everywhere. And some. And I knew, I just
knew, that now they have Discovered Upstairs, there will be no more peace.
Tala and Lilia say: We have Discovered Upstairs. Now we know exactly how Dora the Explorer feels when she sets off on her many adventures.
For far too long, in our humble opinion, we have been confined downstairs while Faris has had all the fun upstairs.
Now we are coming into our own. We can go anywhere,
upstairs and downstairs, out in the garden, you name it and we will be there. We will put our best feet forwards. What's more, because there are two of us, it is much, much easier for us to evade capture. As Mummy is fond of saying she needs two pairs of hands
to deal with us - and at least another pair for Faris the Rascal.
We are both keen to become Rascals just as soon as we are old enough. We are grateful that Faris, who is Our Hero as well as our big brother,
is Leading By Example. We reckon by the time we are really old, say eighteen months or so, we will be Fully Qualified Rascals.
Mummy will be SO very pleased with us.