On weekends, when he’s not refusing to come on mad missions, Husband is besting me in the parenting stakes. Take the one just passed. On Saturday, he made papier mache owls with the Sprogs (or more accurately, he made them with Sprog 1. Sprog 2 hoola hooped and got Daddy to finish hers). My thrilling contribution to the day was to take the Sprogs grocery shopping and ignore their desperate pleas to hire a DVD. At 5am on Sunday morning, Sprog 1 took ill. She’d also taken ill at 5am on Saturday morning – when Husband had tended to her – so I figured it was my turn. I staggered down to her bedroom, propped her up to ease the wheezing and lay down beside her, desperately hoping to return to the land of nod. But she kept doing this annoying shuddering. It really wasn’t conducive to sleep. After admonishing her a few times, I finally decided I’d better take her temperature. She was burning up. Ah, so the shuddering was a fever, not a sly attempt to keep Mummy awake. Vomitting ensued. I’d ducked out of the room for some reason, possibly to check my site traffic, but thankfully she made it to the bathroom in time. Husband staggered downstairs, curled up beside her, and spooned her for the next few hours as she slept and vomitted, slept and vomitted. Sprog 2 and I, both not good with vomit, left them to it. We popped up to the shops for the papers, then headed to Crows Nest Fair for a wander. They were selling “chips on a stick” at the fair, an amazing invention that involves turning a potato into a slinky, putting it on a stick, coating it in a thin layer of batter, deep-frying it, dusting it in chicken salt, then guiltily handing it to your five-year-old for lunch. The shame doubles when you encounter Sprog 1’s teacher five steps later, as the fat drips down Sprog 2’s chin. Husband would never have allowed a chip on a stick. So it’s a good thing he was at home tending to Sprog 1, because chips on sticks are delicious. Like lots of very thin potato scallops turned into a kebab. Ah, no, the diet’s not going so well, thanks for wondering. I’m thinking I’ll start over again today. Mondays are great for starting diets. This time, I’m restricting the diet to Monday to Friday, and taking weekends off for family reasons. Gives me something to look forward to while I chew on endless boiled eggs, grilled vegies and rocket.
TONIGHT’S DINNER: Old favourite, spag bol. I’m having mine on grilled eggplant to avoid the carbs.
housegoeshome 
ooh, I have wanted to try one of those since I saw them at the Royal Easter show. They look evily good.
And am most impressed with the owl — I am such a bad parent with stuff like that ….good think James has his uncle to do the occasional craft project with!