I love the fact that DorkyDad is a poet. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen him perform – in venues ranging from libraries to Jazz bars – and I always come away feeling proud and happy.
Except when he’s doing a slam. I hate watching him in slams. That competitive element takes all the joy out of it for me, and rather than being able to support and encourage him I turn into a jangling, fidgeting ball of nerves. Slams have always made me feel a bit sick.
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I don’t put many family photos up on the blog, but every so often one comes along and sums us up so well that I can’t resist.
It was DorkyDad’s birthday this week.
DorkySon insisted on taking the morning off nursery. Then we had to go out and buy cake, balloons, party hats, candles, napkins, champagne, flowers…
It is hard to have a low key birthday when you live with a three year old.
Happy Birthday, DorkyDad.
Have a balloon, why don’t you…
*Waves hello*
It has been a bit quiet around here, eh?! I hope you enjoyed some of the lovely guest posts I had scheduled over the last couple of weeks though. We’re now just getting back into our normal routine after some nice time away
We headed up to Harris first to visit some of my family, and had a great time.
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Dorkymum | Stories from Tasmania 