Parenting Denial

Okay, so lunch at the neighbours’ was a diet disaster. She made phyllo pastro draped in crumbling feta, dressed with fig pieces to start. For mains, there was seared salmon topped with fresh mango, avo and coriander, served with some delicious form of mash – which I normally don’t eat, because I put it down to a total waste of calories – but it was beautifully unstodgy in its consistency, creamy and utterly divine. What was a girl to do? Even The Princess had some. Not by choice, though. She was perched on my chest in her Baby Bjorn carrier (these things are the BEST, by the way) on my chest, looking out at the dinner table and innocently watching the goings-on. Her head happened to be in the path of my fork on its way from my plate to my mouth, so it was kind of inevitable that I ended up dropping a chunk of seared salmon on her little head, poor angel. The hazards of eating with a baby on you – well, perhaps more hazardous for the baby.

Dinner, I’m afraid was equally hazardous. The Husband’s pilot cousin-in-law was in town before jetting off tomorrow morning and so we took him to The Local Grill. Home of THE best steaks in Jozi. So of course I had to have a fillet. I did pass up the uber yummy shoe string fries in the name of Weight Watchers but their Local Salad with its secret dressing is just too good to be very diet friendly. Anyhoo – today is Monday and what better day to restart a diet than the beginning of a calendar week.

On another note, The Husband came up with a classic yesterday. Contemplating what to do on a Sunday afternoon, he said, with a dead straight face:

“Do you think we can take The Princess to a movie?”

Sure, honey. At the tender age of three months and three weeks, we’ll just prop her up against her box of popcorn, put some Coke in her bottle and discuss montage with her afterwards. I’m sure she’ll love it.

Shame, I think he’s experiencing some form of parenting denial because when I asked him what planet he was on, he didn’t really see the insanity of his question.

“Really?” he said. “We can’t?”

He even made the genius suggestion that we simply take her in her pram, and if she cried, we swiftly wheel her out. The irony is that, six months ago, if a crying kid had to so much as interrupt 10 seconds of his movie, he would have been down the aisle in a flash, lecturing that mom on the selfishness of her actions. But because we’re talking about The Princess here, well, there should be a special Ster Kinekor dispensation for this incredible child!

One area where I am happy to report that he’s no longer in denial, is in the poo department. Would you believe that he has willingly changed poo nappies since the hospital? Not bad, huh? For someone who once swore he’d employ someone to be solely responsible for poo, he’s come a long way…

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