Cabin fever descends on us all at Pig Row. Little D spends his days switching on and off every electric product he can get his little chubby hands on.
There is no warning. In the middle of a telephone conversation he will strike with a simple flick of his thumb and then a giggle. There normally follows yelling, swearing and a struggle with Little D as you try to switch the blasted phone back on. As the phone clicks back into life, Little D wails away, waddling off, shaking his head. For a moment there is the feeling of guilt, that he is a toddler, that he is only practicing, learning, testing his boundaries and then the little bugger turns the television off. The worst catastrophe is when mid sentence, mid article, mid word, he sidles up beside you as you type; laptop screen glowing a welcome and he looks you in the eye. It is the kind of look that melts your heart, that says, love me and I will love you, you are my Daddy. Then he will take your hand in his and with his free hand turn your laptop off. Bugger. He'd make his getaway on a hoover if he could figure out how it worked. That will be the next step if the rain doesn't stop.