May I be polite?

The support meetings every morning would not end before Ragz breaks down in tears over his haircut. We are not exactly forcing him to change it, more of a gentle nudge in the ribs every 15 minutes. He gave us an idea when he tried Bungy jumping, sky diving, water rafting and microwaving eggs. Seeing how his life is full of risk and his head of hair it would be shame if it didn't have a few yellow spikes in it. Ok, so his ribs have now got a permanent dent where T-rex pokes him with her pen while asking for status on data warehouse issues and where I poke him with her pen if he doesn't explain why he hadn't yet microwaved grapes. But if he doesn't have much hair left (his words) might as well put them to good yellow use.

Chantal this morning amused us by describing curious incidents with her son. He has become very polite and apparently it's not something the parents have taught him. "May I eat my dinner?", "May I turn on the TV". This alone is raising a question as to what he generally eats or where he got this sudden urge to be polite, cos the parents are so annoyed that sooner or later they will just say No to test the response. But at least Momo says good morning to himself every morning (see Adventures of Momo below). We have convinced Chantal that asking is usually a normal thing and the child is not in need of discipline… yet. It could be worse, he can actually add "please" at the end.

Considering that one of her neighbours has killed his wife and the other dropped dead after a rugby game on his driveway… but that's a whole other blog for the whole other hood.