Chocolate face

My day began at 6.30am in new money, when a little voice said, "Grandma, please can you check and see what time it is?" Luckily my alarm clock is radio controlled and resets automatically when the clocks change, so I didn't feel the need to do battle over whether or not it was reasonable to be getting up just yet, though for the next couple of hours, whenever I glanced at a clock that hadn't yet gone over to Summer Time, I felt a strong urge to dive back underneath the nearest duvet.

Anyway, by shortly after 7am (NM) The Boy Wonder and I were down in the kitchen, making pancakes and bacon for breakfast. With maple syrup, I shudder to relate. Then, just as soon as the Boy announced that he was listening to his body, and it was telling him that four pancakes and two rashers of bacon were enough to be getting on with, we set to work to make some chocolate tiffin for him to give to his Mummy as a Mother's Day gift. This was the final bowl, in which I'd melted together dark and light chocolate - both of which he'd had to road-test first, obviously, to make sure they were good enough to use - to make the topping. Every other bowl and spoon had already been licked, including some that were still in use at the time and had to be twitched out of his grasp and rapidly de-germed.

By this point the Boy was so sugared up he was in danger of turning feral, so R took him out into the garden and encouraged him to run some of it off. After a lot of swinging and some rocket stomping, B announced that he wanted to spray some sugar water around, "for the bees". I said that we don't need to do this any more because spring has arrived and there are plenty of plants and trees in flower now, but of course he was insistent. So then I explained why flower nectar is better for insects than sugar water, at which point he huffed grumpily, shot me a sideways look of some disfavour, and said "You're always tellin' me things." Which, to be fair, is true. And as R said with some amusement, at least it's a step forward from "NO! Stop tellin' me! It's not inchrestin'!" - a statement which shook me to my foundations at the time, but which has since become a regular catchphrase in our house.

Shortly after this we had to scoop up Boy, belongings, leftover pancakes and Mother's Day tiffin, and head off to Monmouth, where we met up with the rest of the Family B and our co-grandparents for lunch. This was a very pleasant way to end a happy weekend.