I must apologise for my infrequent updating of this blog. Things have been odd since March. I cannot explain why, but I hope I will be forgiven by my small, but faithful, readership.
My toddler is developing at a frighteningly rapid rate. To my delight, his imagination has begun to involve both of us in enchanting, and sometimes bizarre, conversations lately. A couple of days ago, we went to a local shop for some milk. I know most of the staff, but there was a new girl behind the counter, smiling personably, and out to impress with her customer service skills.
"Aw!" she exclaimed as she served us, gazing at my toddler, who was clutching his chocolate buttons as if his life depended on the closeness of their proximity. "Aren't you lovely? And what is your name?" she asked him.
"Sarah," he replied, with an earnest expression on his face and without a hint of mischief.
Before I could speak, the girl replied "Oh, that's my name too! How lovely, we've got the same name!"
"Yes, " replied my son, and added "Sarah," again, for the purposes of confirmation.
"Do you know," The girl addressed me now. "I thought she was a boy! I'm ever so sorry."
"Don't be. He is."
She looked bemused.
"His name isn't Sarah," I added quickly, before she mistook me for an overzealous Johnny Cash fan. "Tell the lady your name," I commanded my offspring.
He deliberated. His chocolate buttons were already paid for.
"No."
I apologised to the friendly girl, and muttered something about it just being one of those days, and began to hustle my son towards the door. As we got there, he turned and looked back to the counter.
"Lady?" he called, as I began to open the door.
"Yes?" She answered him in anticipation.
He gave her a firm look, and as he stepped underneath my outstretched arm and through the open door, he declared, "My name is Spiderman."
