Nice moment with Tom yesterday.
I had him sitting snugly on my lap while he happily munched his way through a chocolate coin or three.
Now any parent will know that a toddler + chocolate = C3 (Complete Chocolate Chaos). In layman's terms this means an end result that can be likened to an explosion in a chocolate factory. Willy Wonka hit by Jihadi terrorists. Cadbury's merging with Chernobyl. That kind of thing.
So being a wise boy-scout-like father I had a secret weapon stashed behind me: the wet wipe.
The wet wipe is surely the greatest invention of the Twentieth Century (after man-flu). Soft, moist and damned hard to perforate, their uses are multifarious and manifold but let's not go into all that right now.
Seeing that Tom was wearing the equivalent of chocolate gloves I reached sagely for my wet wipe with the speed of a sharpshooter...
Only to find that his hands were suddenly clean and spotless.
I was gobsmacked.
Smart kid. Maybe he'd learnt the art of licking his own fingers - thus cleaning himself and gaining maximum chocolate consumption pleasure?
Hey. I've produced a genius!
And then I saw my trousers...
Although he didn't say it I'm sure his eyes were mouthing the words: thanks for being there, dad.
*Sigh* No problem, son. No Problem.