Today I had the time of my life. I sang nursery rhymes, read picture books, and reminisced about Sonbeam’s babyhood. I was bitten, vomited on, peed on, and had snot, cookie crumbs and sticky rice rubbed into my blouse. In between times I took part in intense discussions about life and the universe. And for one blissful hour, I sat and ate homecooked spring rolls, octopus rice, pumpkin salad, and strawberry blancmange. In other words, it was just a typical morning at the Little Piggies Cafe. The mothers were deeply apologetic for the behaviour of their recalcitrant babies (aged 3 to 14 months) and I was happy to assure them that I deeply welcomed the intrusion on my life … as long as it’s only for 4 hours a week! Any more than that, and I think I’d lose my mind. Seriously, I am now filled with admiration for full-time mothers, and all that they endure. How on earth did I ever survive the Sonbeam’s infancy with my sanity intact? Oh that’s right, I sensibly paid other people to raise him.
Anyway, I really need a smock or apron of some sort. Today I went straight from Little Piggies to cram school with my work clothes covered in baby drool. Not that anyone noticed, or gave a shit.