Sigh of Relief
Our little one went in for an operation today. The op was to have a cyst like thing removed from the sinus area between his nose and eye.
Thanks to the miracles of modern medicine and good Italian doctors, the keyhole surgery seems to have been a success. Read more
Hunting the Antique Torg - Crisis Aversion
‘Hunting the what?’, you may be mouthing. Well, if you did not know, the Antique Torg (a strained translation from the Italian ‘l’Antico Torg’), is an agressive looking little fellow who belongs to one of the upteen Gormiti clans. He resembles the figure in the picture on your left.
We have hoards of the things sprouting from just about everywhere in our apartment. Only now, one of their number has mysteriously disappeared. For the moment, this vanishing remains an unsolved whodunnit.
I strongly suspect a case of ‘Gormiti napping’, and it’s likely that the dog actually is the Gormito napper. I did carry out a strip search of said dog’s basket, but to no avail.
Luckily, a potential crisis situation did not arise, as although your official Gormito hunter here suspected that the 4.5 year old Gormito Godfather may have kicked up a fuss before heading for bed, the aforementioned self-proclaimed head of his own personal Gormito clan, proceeded to bed without further ado.
Clever Son and Crafty Dog
My son continues to surprise us. For a 4.5 year old he has quite a devious mind. Just today after I had picked the light blighter up from school, we stopped off in a bar, or rather we were induced into entering the bat. I was with the mother of one of his friends, and the two lads ran into the place. So, we had a coffee and the wee ones tucked into a brioche and grabbed stuff off the aperitif buffet, as you do here in Milan. Then the two little chaps started messing around with the gambling slot machines, and my little one asked for money. I said, no way, and Marty, my son, whipped off his bobble hat and stuck it in front of him like a little beggar. The little bu***r!
Now, I have know idea where he got this idea from. The TV or a film I imagine. But, whatever, he is a wily little beast. The other day, in yet another incident, he caught me out with one of his little tricks too. I mean, I’m over 40, and this 4.5 year old can get the better of me! Worrying, it is. He’s got quite a mind. Heaven only knows what he’ll be like when he’s, I don’t know, six or something.
And then there is the six month old pup. He’s got a crafty streak in him too. This little fellow gets rather upset when we give him a hard time over pooping in the house. So, guess what he’s taken to doing. Brace yourselves, it’s a bit disgusting. Hope you have eaten.
Well, he hoovers up his own poo. Yuk! Ends up with rather foul smelling breath as a result, as you may imagine.
So, there you have it, the joys of pets and children. Hours of endless fun. Or something like that.




