Me standing on the bath mat drying myself after my shower.
The bathroom door bursts open and Travis rushes in. He says: “I’ve done something bad…” ominous pause…”to my hair.”
Me: “Uh, well I suppose it is sticking up a bit…”
Petra runs in, shouting: “Daddy has chicken hair! Daddy has chicken hair!”
Travis stands in front of the mirror for a moment, vainly trying to flatten his hair down. Then they both leave, without closing the door behind them.
Tagsandy murray australia australian open birthday blogging books breastfeeding canada children's books christchurch christmas costa rica cricket development dunedin earthquake family feminism food holidays home home ownership house hunt illness jo walton kindy mastitis me motherhood move music neil gaiman new zealand new zealand herald olivia parenting petra photos pip play poetry politics postaday2011 postaday2014 pregnancy presents qotd quotation rafael nadal rant reading renovations rugby rugby world cup san jose sick sleep south africa summer talking tennis the dominion post the guardian travel travis ultrasound vancouver vox hunt weaning weather wellington wimbledon wordpress writing writing course