twice this week when i’ve asked alfie whether he is coming with me or not, his reply has been {and don’t worry, translation to follow!} “oooh, y peth ydi…dwi’n licio ti a dwi’n really, really lyfio ti…ond dwi ddim isio dod hefo ti.  oh, dwi just ddim yn gwbod be i neud, mam!”…

“ooh, the thing is…i like you and i really, really love you…but i don’t want to come with you.  oh, i just don’t know what to do, mam!”…and that last sentence is said with a slap of his hand to his forehead.

and both times after cleaning up the mess that is my heart exploding, i reply with ”it’s really ok, bach.  i’m just taking the dog for a walk…”

alfie, alfie, alfie.  one of the sweetest bois i know {the other is 11 yrs old and also lives with us} but oh my life you are a handfull at times de!  i dropped him off at school this morning with a ”good luck with him today!” to his teacher.  within the first half hour of him being up he had pulled his dad’s shorts down {!} and wound me up something rotten.

ps – don’t forget there is a week left to vote for me in the MAD Blog Awards – click the link on your right if you wish to vote, diolch!