Sweeties

As we sat down to dinner tonight, Eliot asked me brightly, "So, Mum! How was your day at work?". She inquired into my swim this morning, and listened to an account of the day, injecting listening sounds and occasional questions.

Anselm is changing visibly every day, turning into a big kid. He is adopting a manner we've seen around the neighbourhood, an amiable but sardonic, mildly sarcastic, don't-suffer-fools attitude which comes with a whole framework of droll, dry phrases. It's rather adorable, although it is leaving familiar territory way behind. Though.. while waiting for dinner to cook, he sat with Blaise looking through a set of navigation movies Blaise had made as part of a design submission and was full of almost suspiciously gratifying delight (sycophancy being far, far from his style): "Awesome! I love how you can go right in, and out! Is that really a whole book?".

After dinner, he picked up his plate and put it in the dishwasher, then brought a cloth and wiped down his place. Then brought the teatowel and polished his spot, while parents looked on in astonishment. ("The table looks ugly with streaks on it", he explained.)