It was Australia Day recently, and we did absolutely nothing whatsoever to celebrate. I do feel a little guilty about that... to be honest, I'm not even sure if I told you. Bad Mummy. We may have to have a make-up Aussie Day when your daddy returns from Japan.
You must have been feeling a little lack of Aussie spirit in the house... and you decided to make up for it, big time.
The jams cupboard was open at dinnertime. This is normally a fatal mistake, because you often then refuse to eat all dinner until you get your spoon in the peanut butter jar. But last night? You pointed to the cupboard and started chanting a word I didn't recognise. It sounded like 'lemonade' at first, and I tried and tried to understand, pointing to things and saying the name, but not succeeding. I told you that there wasn't any lemonade, I'm sorry, and I closed the cupboard. Oh the howling! Ok. You wanted something in that cupboard. We worked through it systematically, with you saying 'NO!' every time I pulled something out. Until we got to the back left hand corner and I finally understood!
"VEGEMITE!" I was so happy to have decoded, and the look of joy on your face was priceless at having succeeded once again at this miraculous thing called communication. I then got you a slice of bread and some butter (for really, who would ever have vegemite without butter?!). For the next forty minutes, you refused all attempts at a proper, socially acceptable way of eating Vegemite, and instead ate is straight from the jar.
Yes, you read this correctly. Vegemite, straight from the jar.
You are so much more hard-core than any other person I have ever met! You may be sensitive in many many ways, my love, but Vegemite? No problem. Bring it on.
I love you, little Böhnli!
Love Mummy
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