Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Carrots, Carrots, Carrots

Garden Boy has spent the morning shouting at the patio doors, 'Daddy, Daddy, Daddy'. I thought that he had eventually given up but no. He had just wandered to the hallway to get his wellies and coat. Back at the patio doors he tried again, 'Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.' No amount of 'He's at work' and 'He isn't in the garden' convinced him, so I took a break from chopping carrots and walked around the garden to search for Daddy. Finally convinced that Daddy was not in the garden we came back inside and Garden Boy stationed himself at the front door, 'Daddy, Daddy, Daddy'.

Garden Boy obviously enjoyed digging with Daddy in the garden all day yesterday and is not entirely happy to be stuck indoors today doing domestic chores like washing carrots and sweeping the floors. I have to admit I share his feelings. I chopped enough carrots yesterday, but I need to get going on more carrot soup while they are fresh out of the ground. Garden Boy has now fallen asleep, exhausted after his shouting for Daddy and I am waiting for Garden Girl to finish meticulously washing the carrots. With all the practice I got yesterday, I have been chopping faster than she has been washing.

Luckily our Little Garden Helpers have a friend coming to play later to keep them occupied and cheer up their Monday and I have promised they can make cakes. The best way to beat the Monday blues. And they definately won't be carrot cakes!