Six isn't old enough

to open a bank account apparently. You have to be 7, so we wasted our time this morning and I am annoyed as the bank had his DOB for a fortnight and should have realised. Plus I know have a form to fill in to open his account which will be sent off to process, but they wouldn't accept that today either, despite the likelihood of anyone looking at it before his birthday being zero.

So a baby 'cino and a friendly discussion on the wisdom of buying books the day before your birthday and we headed home. Lunch was followed by a hair cut and then he spent the rest of the afternoon playing with his Lego.

Carys and I walked to town and back to pick up bits for tomorrow. Her knee, which had been sore by the end of yesterday, seemed to hold up ok, although she had an ice pack on it before bed. Growth spurt I am thinking, fingers crossed.

So my baby boy is seven tomorrow. He is beyond excited at the prospect. I am not so sure myself, but there is nothing I can do about it, as Carys says "That's what life does Mummy!".