Pod is a bit of a lothario, albeit a slightly ginger one. I’ve only recently spotted this but all I can say is, watch out ladies.
I dread to think how my life is going to be when he’s old enough to date – so, about 35 if I get my way.
Greeting a lady
Pod has been well trained to be polite. I insist on his manners and he is generally very good with his pleases and thank yous and everything in between.
He’s recently started saying, “Pleased to meet you!” and shaking hands with new people as he meets them. Sometimes he changes things up with a wee “How do you do?” because, you know, variety is the spice of life and all that.
We were practising the other day and he added a new element. “Pleased to meet you! Now I want your ARM.”
I won’t lie. I was confused. But he bent his gingery head and kissed my hand. Prince Charming or what?
Complimenting a lady
I was in the shower the other day. Naturally, the door was open and I was trying to keep an eye on him – there’s no such thing as showering alone when you have a toddler, as we all know.
I shouted his name when he had been quiet for a suspiciously long time (30 seconds) and he came darting through to the bathroom. He spotted me in the shower, and in a surprised and happy voice he said, “Mummy! LOOK AT YOU! What a body!”
It was weird, but it was also startlingly beautiful to hear, especially when you’ve been obsessing over a low-carb diet and stressing over your tum…
It’s the little things
I went for a makeover in the House of Fraser a couple of weeks back. Let’s just say that the YSL counter was an epiphany. I bounced out of the consultation and ran into the car, where Pod waited with his nana and papa.
“You’re beautiful, mummy,” he insisted the whole way home, as he stroked my face.
Heart = melted. Melty heart puddles everywhere.
Tell the occasional white lie
Every man worth his salt knows that the answer to, “Does my bum look big in this?” is never, “Yes, fatty.”
Pod seems to have cottoned on to this skill very young. Let me explain the background here: I had a stinking cold recently and applied Vicks. Pod wanted to know what the smell was so we practised putting our noses close to things and breathing in deeply to sniff them.
Since then he has enjoyed sniffing away at things: Kandoo wipes (mmm, delicious, but I can’t eat them…); Thomas bath bubbles (SWEETS!); moisturiser (yuck!).
Last night I was sitting on my sofa with my bare feet up as he watched In the Night Garden.
“What ees dis?” he asked, poking at the smallest of my toenails.
“My toenail. Don’t do that. Disgusting.” I hate feet, especially my own, so I was keen to shoo him away. Suddenly I realised that he was trying to sniff my feet. “Pod, what are you doing?”
“I sniff it. It smells!”
“Oh?” I asked, cautiously.
“Yes! It smells of…emm…lunch and cake! Tasty!”
Still, I have to give him real credit – he’s done a better job at charming the ladies than any of the blokes I’ve dated the past year!