This will hurt me...

One of Henry's most favourite things in the whole wide world is "dinner outside". Here in Tasmania, "dinner outside" equates to "dining with seagulls". Thus, the other evening, we headed on down to Bellerive beach and feasted on an array of scallops, prawns, squid, blue grenadier, dory and chips at the world famous (well, it is now) Fish Bar . We ate in the shadows of the light towers of the magnificent Bellerive Oval (home of the 2006/7 Sheffield Shield winners, the Tasmanian Tigers) and under the watchful gaze of a gang of seagulls that were loitering about. Which brings me to Theme Thursday . I got the IMPRESSION that the seagulls were up to no good. The cynosure appeared to be a battered scallop (or perhaps it was a prawn), and despite my warnings to Henry and Ezra to avoid encouraging the winged-rapscallions, an imbroglio ensued when a stray chip found itself on the grass next to us. You can imagine the commotion. In fact, in the subsequent kerf...

One suspects that this is one of those "He's going to resent this in the future" kind of snaps, but I've decided that I'm posting it anyway. We're a week into what I am calling toilet turkey , a titanic tussle to topple terrible toddler habits; namely, pooing one's pants. But I ask you, does this like a fellow ready to ditch the world of cloth nappies and thrust himself headlong into a world of cisterns, u-bends, bowls and urinals?

This one finished second in the Sydney to Hobart yacht race (and managed to avoid getting eaten by a shark). This one didn't even enter the race (it may have had its keel eaten by a shark). This one was ineligible for the race (anti-shark missiles fitted to the stern). This one was the real winner for the day. He finally managed to complete the poo/toilet combo! We are all very, very proud. The talk has been poo all evening, as I am sure you can all imagine.

I have a question for you to consider this morning. Do you think that it is possible for a two year old to stagger the timing of his poos to maximise their impact? I am convinced that Henry is doing so, and what’s more, I suspect that he is engaging in some kind of nefarious activity designed to increase both the concentration and odour of what is dangerously developing into weapons-grade faeces. Advanced satellite imaging suggests that there may be some kind of involvement from North Korea. Or Syria. Or Libya. Or perhaps the neighbour’s cat. Whatever. We’re considering counter strikes as we speak. Ezra, bless him, is still working on a naïve level – typical of babies and despotic tin pot dictators – that more is inexorably better. The little fellow lacks the sophistication of Henry’s innovative and enhanced brand of asymmetrical warfare . Now, while this technique is thoroughly unsuited to poo-related conflict, it is proving wholly successful on the sleep front. Ezra has now taken to ...