A fishy business

Well, the penguins (see below) are gone, but their memory (and the mess around the pool) still lingers on. Nicole has developed an unusual taste for pilchards. Some husbands might be worried about this unusual craving having some “hidden meaning”, but not me. Why? Because the pilchards are being fed to Alex.
“The omega oils will do him good!” she exclaims.
“In what way?” I counter, ever eager to have my thirst for scientific proof of everything sated.
It’s usually at about this time that she smiles pseudo-knowingly and then ignores me completely until I forget to ask again.

I’ve no doubt that she’s right though. Dolphins and seals always seem to look healthy and indeed, Alex has already gained a wonderfully waterproof oily layer over his skin, which not only keeps him warm in the water, but also makes him extremely difficult to handle in the bathtub.
The only drawback is the smell. The boy, rapidly approaching his first birthday, has not yet completely mastered basic table manners. Why, only yesterday, he used his dessert knife to butter a roll.
OK, I jest (he’d never do that), but feeding him is an understandably messy business at the moment. And that pilchardy smell does end to stick around somewhat: hands, clothes, hair, walls, high chair, floor, cutlery, ceiling – you can imagine, I’m sure. One finds oneself just catching a brief whiff when one least expects it – in the car halfway to work, for example. And if you can smell it, surely so can other people. Hmm.

Still, as long as it’s more healthy than his diet over the weekend, I suppose we should be thankful. Two birthday parties and his first experience of chocolate cake – scary stuff. But then I guess no-one wants to eat carrots at a birthday party. And they shouldn’t be forced to either. Although, of course, we tried. Anyway, pictures from the Easter weekend and this weekend’s RSS feed.
Alternatively, get your computer to do it for you; such are the wonders of modern technology…

Sorry – did you just smell something fishy? Or was it just me?