Walked to school for drop off (no rain just as we left the house this morning), back via the fruit and veg shop to pick up a few bits and pieces.
Tired, grumpy Godzilla in tow.
Just for a bit of fun.
Arrived home, arms loaded (once again I had purchased more than I could carry), attempted to unlock the front door.
Mistakenly, I asked Godzilla to shut the front gate for me.
The expected response was “sure Mummy”, but that would have been the deluded expected response, not the actual response.
Which was, in fact, a three year old throwing himelf to the ground, screaming “I dont’ shut the gate”.
So I allowed him to lie on the front doorstep, screaming his lungs out till he shut the gate.
Just in case the neighbours had any misconceptions that I was, in fact, not a good mother at all.
After five minutes of my-leg-is-being-cut-off-with-a-rusty-saw screaming, I walked to the front of the house and noticed … tada! the gate was closed.
(The fact that he was still lying on the front doorstep, screaming, didn’t ring any bells with me at this point).
The gate had been closed by the wind!!