After the trauma of our exile, today was a day to take her easy.

Milo was up around 0600hrs and not his usual giggly morning self, in fact he was rather whimpery. Not interested in his weet-bix or chemical milk he wanted to be cuddled, or at the very least cling to my ankles while I shuffled around the kitchen. A quick inspection confirmed two new chompers on his upper gums are all but ready to emerge, likely a strong reason for his malaise. That will make four in total, a fearsome upper/ lower combo that will soon tear barbeque chicken asunder.

In an attempt to ease his gum throbbing I offered Milo some baby Nurofen, which he took with enthusiasm. I certainly read the dosage carefully and administered correctly but the Nurofen really zonked the little guy who fell asleep at 0830 and did not re-emerge until almost 1100. Milo seemed to have the right idea so the cats and I decided to get in on the morning nap, daddy daycare continues to be a tumultuous ordeal.

A hectic morning

We all re-emerged in great spirits. Milo drank his bottle swiftly and we were soon in the car in pursuit of our daily chores; the bright lights of the shopping centre beckoned. Milo chatted happily to himself in the car and then demonstrated terrific equanimity in transferring to the pram. First stop alterations shop in a second effort to sew the badge onto my tweed, success. Then to the bike shop for D locks to secure the Croozer from thievery, then mega-grocery shop including all of Milo’s favourites; peaches, strawberries, pears, eggs, yoghurt, barbeque chicken.

Exhausted from our impressive productivity we headed home. Milo was ravenous from all of his sleeping and sitting so we tore into the chicken together with our hands, perhaps the purest form of bonding two men can enjoy.

We then spent the rest of the afternoon playing with his eclectic mix of toys. If last week’s favourite was the empty carboard box this week’s is a dead heat between my spare leather shoelaces and the empty presentation box from a bottle of Diplomatico Rum. I enjoyed watching Milo’s synapses firing madly as they tried to plot a path to solve the problem of the Diplomatico box and the red tennis ball. The ball, at the bottom of the box was just out of reach of his eager fingertips. He could tease it a little and it would start rolling toward him but then he would lift it up to look, and of course it would roll back to the bottom. He repeated this process several times with increasing frustration until he simply flung the box across the carpet, and the ball rolled out. An elegant solution.

The Damir Dokic in me is convinced Milo is already throwing the tennis ball back in my direction when I roll it to him; but I think it is more likely the law of averages that flailing arms will, from time to time, strike the ball at the correct angle to send it roughly in my direction. I am sure I will continue this repetition until he decides he hates tennis balls.

A huge development today was the viewing of one episode of Game of Thrones during Milo’s afternoon nap. This comes on the back of two consecutive nights of Kuepps and I watching the West Wing (our first and second ever episodes). This is an indication of increased efficiency, or a decreasing quality of parenting. It is possible the two are inseparable.

Kuepps arrived home shortly after Milo roused and we headed back out to the bike shop to have her inner tube replaced (no, I do not know how to do this myself), in preparation for Swim School round 2 tomorrow. We then gave Milo his first baba ganoush (mixed reviews) while we enjoyed a snippet of adult conversation, picked up the bike when it was ready and strolled swiftly home as Milo’s usual evening crankiness bubbled up.

• Episodes of Game of Thrones – 1
• Episodes of West Wing – 2
• Favourite West Wing Character so far – Josh Lyman
• Follow up calls to internet company – 0
• Current internet speed – 3.27 Mbps
• Cheesey-mite Scrolls from Baker’s Delight for Milo – 1