Louie’s latest swimming trip would have been better spent at home in the bath.
If he’d plonked himself on the edge of our tub for half an hour, it would have been the equivalent of our visit to the pool.
He was lounging around like he was waiting for the barman to bring him over another drink
The little man usually loves his time in the water, but on this occasion decided he’d rather impersonate the lifeguards than submerse himself.
It was a pretty accurate impression too.
Don’t get me wrong, he was happy enough – happiness being something on which I always base my personal parenting success.
That said though, about 70 per cent of his time was spent perched on the tiles.
I’d really have preferred that figure to be below 50 per cent or at least a lot closer to it.
We do have to pay to go there after all.
He spent that much time sitting on the edge of the pool, it looked like he was holidaying abroad.
He was lounging around like he was waiting for the barman to bring over another drink.
I think he momentarily confused our stay at the leisure centre with an all-inclusive break in Fuerteventura.
Quite what he was seeing when I loaded the swim bag into the boot of the car, is anyone’s guess.
He must have been picturing me placing some cases on the airport conveyer belt at the luggage check-in desk.
Our drive to the pool must have been that smooth that he thought he was on a flight to the Canary Islands.
On arrival at the centre, we handed over our membership card to the receptionist.
I’m assuming Louie thought we were simply checking into the hotel.
Once in our swim shorts and Bob the Builder swimsuit – I’ll let you decide who was in what – we made our way to the pool.
Almost from the outset, the little holidaymaker seemed more intent on soaking up the rays from above, than making any contact with the H2O.
Unfortunately for him, the rays from above were courtesy of light bulbs, rather than the sun.
I considered asking one of the attendants for a deckchair or sunbed for him at one point.
My attempts to coax him in the pool were a little on the futile side too.
It reminded me of my many failed efforts to encourage Kerrie into the sea during past vacations.
Hopefully our next swimming trip will be a little more water than land.
Is it okay to give your toddler a Pot Noodle for breakfast?
I’d like to say there’s no right or wrong answer here, but that’s obviously not the case.
The answer here should be a categorical ‘no’.
And just for the record, Louie’s never had one, for any meal.
If you do ever see me feeding him one, please come and have a stern word with me.
As much as I personally still love the instant snack, and have done since my student days, I don’t want Louie introduced to them until at least his first week at university.
By that point, it’ll be his own choice and he can decide if he too wants to go down the same lazy, unhealthy noodle path I once trod (and still occasionally and ashamedly tread).
I say all this with even greater conviction after reading last week of a dad who gave his toddler a Noodle Pot for breakfast – they’re the Morrisons own brand.
The manufacturers must have spent weeks toiling over the product name.
It was a chicken and mushroom Noodle Pot – the choice of flavour being all that made the dad’s breakfast faux pas remotely forgivable.
Apparently, a third of mums fear their child being fed junk food when staying at a friend’s for dinner. That fear is very much weighing heavily on my shoulders now too.