Driving along the other day Cal told me that when he grows up he wants to be a doctor. One who puts the babies in the mummies' tummies. He said he's going to put them in soft places, not on the hard bits, so they'll be safe. And also that he's going to wear gloves.
On the way to school today we saw a 'men at work' sign depicting a rudimentary workman figure. He said, 'those drawings of people with no necks make me so mad!'
'Mum, you're the worst. You're worse than a box of pins. Mum you're the best.' All in the same 5 minutes, all the time these days.
Cal, dear heart, I love you so.