Dad stayed home from work today. He had a queasy tummy. Mum's job was to keep me out of his way so I don't get sick too. But I wasn't having any of this quarantine business. If dad's are home, then they're home to play, as far as I'm concerned.
I went to swimming in the morning and mum decided to test out how much I know by using a 'sink or swim' approach. She was very happy that I chose to swim - or at least thrash about until I got out of trouble.
Later in the afternoon, we were walking in the rose garden when our neighbour drove past and told us that there was a big storm coming. Those words were what it took to make mum and dad decide now was the perfect time to finish cleaning out the garage for the car. But there was one little chink in the plan...what to do with me. It's been mentioned before but I'm not very helpful in the cleaning and organising stakes. Dad's solution was to strap me in the high chair in the laundry so I could see what was going on. No way, dad! Mum's idea was to give me a plain biscuit and see if that would keep me busy. No way, mum!
Finally, in desperation, mum peeked into the fridge and saw an almost-finished packet of Tim Tams. They're not in the habit of handing me chocolate bikkies, and I've never had a Tim Tam before, but desperate times call for things stronger than a plain bikkie.
It turns out Tim Tams can buy ten whole minutes of peace and quiet!
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