Ok, well let me introduce myself, I’m Little Pickle and I’m 21 months old. I seem to be the constant butt of my Mum’s jokes on this blog…’oh look what mess she’s got into this time’ and the like. Well I’m sick of it, and whilst I’m at it, all her whining. So its time to tell my side of the story. She says she doesn’t blog as much as she’d like ’cause by the time I’ve gone to bed she’s got all sorts of grown up things to do like washing and cleaning the house and paying important things called bills. So its down to me to do the big grown up job of writing a blog post. Can’t get the staff these days, gotta do it myself. I reckon she’s just wasting her evenings away faffing about on that thing called Headbook or whatever, or tapping the computer keys writing those a-mail thingies, and watching pointless things on the telly (when really she should be watching Peppa Pig anyway). Besides, I don’t know what’s she’s whining about, she has it easy, she spends all day playing at making tents with me, making useless towers that I have to knock down to show her how rubbish they are, and I also allow her to help me making some food. I play along at playing peekaboo, but she’s a bit rubbish at it, she keeps asking where I’ve gone when all I’ve done is shut my eyes. Dad does it too – hopeless they are, I do worry about their intelligence sometimes. Honestly, 2 PhDs between my parents, plus a few other degrees and they can’t even figure out that I’m still here when I shut my eyes. Clueless.
I’m the one that does all the hard work round here anyway. Whilst my Mum was preparing all this tasty looking grub for lunch,
I was working hard at providing her with a priceless piece of art by getting my black crayon and drawing her a lovely picture on the kitchen lino. You’d have thought she’d appreciate it, it could have been a masterpiece, but no, she told me I had to scrub it off with her. And then, the cheek of it! She was annoyed when I actually enjoyed myself scrubbing the floor, ’cause it was meant to be some sort of punishment for drawing on the floor when she’d told me to draw ‘only on the paper’. How am I meant to remember that from 2 seconds ago? Honestly am I meant to remember everything? Anyway, she seemed a bit peed off still, so I went to help her out with folding the clean washing in the other room. I dunno why she hates folding washing, its easy – step one, throw yourself onto clean washing basket, step two – throw everything out the basket , step three- turn basket over and read a book – done. Quit complaining Mum, you have it so easy, my life is hard, so many books to read, so little time. Especially when you make me have those things called naps where I miss out on all the fun.
We had a good lunch today anyway, and Mum’s friend appreciated all the tasty grub we’d made. It seems that Mum’s friend is into this whole raw food thing too, I don’t quite get it to be honest, why is this food any different from any other food? All I know is that my Mum is secretly proud when I have a mini toddler meltdown in the supermarket ’cause I want an apple, dates or prunes rather than that scarily coloured cr*p full of preservatives and artificial stuff like other kids demand. Although she was a bit embarassed yesterday when I yelled ‘POOONES EAT MUMMY!’ at the top of my voice yeserday in Tesco. It seems that my ennuciation of ‘prunes’ sounded a bit like ‘poos’. I don’t get it anyway, all I know is I like pooones, and fruit and kale, and Mummy is hoping I’ll still like them when I’m older and not eat cr*p like most other kids. I particularly enjoyed our lunch today of carrot and orange salad, courgette noodles in pesto and chard wraps with satay sauce. All of these sauces make hair masks you know. Mummy doesn’t appreciate the importance of having silky smooth hair at the dinner table, but I know better. What I also don’t get is why Mummy was so excited that her pal brought a pineapple and baby courgettes as a gift today when she came for lunch, isn’t that normal to bring people stuff when you go for a meal at their house? I’d have prefered if it was bananas or mushrooms to be honest as I always get straight into those when the veg box comes. But Mummy seemed quite chuffed. Whatever, some people are easily pleased eh?
Here’s a recipe if you’d like to try some of our lunch (well not our actual lunch obviously, as we’ve eaten it, but you know what I mean. I’m a toddler so not always 100% clear anyway. Mum just spent a week trying to work out what I meant by ‘Mi Tu’ – I was trying to tell her I wanted to watch Mr Tumble, obviously. Honestly, and she calls herself an intelligent person) Anyhoo, here’s some grub recipes;
Carrot and orange salad
3 carrots grated (in the food processor is easy, especially if you get me to help and push the buttons)
1 orange, segmented (and squeeze remaining juice from the pith over carrots. I s’pose you should probably get your Mum to help with this bit cos its involves using a sharp knife and mine practically has a heart attack if I even breathe over one)
2 tbsp raisins/sultanas
drizzle of olive oil
Mix with a big spoon and throw half of it over the worktop – done.
Take one huge leaf of chard and cut it up or several small ones
Add into the middle of the chard, strips of carrot, cucumber, avocado and alfalfa sprouts (not pepper cos I hate it and won’t touch the stuff)
Drizzle over a sauce made from 1 tsp of 5 spice or hoisin sauce (Mum says I have to tell you its not raw – but it IS tasty), 1 tsp nut butter, drizzle of chilli oil, splash of water or coconut milk. Then mix and again, splash all over worktop as well as getting a bit onto the chard wraps. Roll up and get all over your face as you eat. Oh and I had some with (non-raw) hummous too, cos I love the stuff.
Hope you’ve enjoyed my guest blog today, I reckon its loads better than my Mum’s lame efforts. Maybe I’ll sneak onto the computer again whilst she’s not looking and post again. I’m a child of the computer generation after all – she can’t even touch type and didn’t get an email address till she was 19. I, on the other hand have had one since birth. 🙂 That qualifies me for a lot I reckon. S’pose I’d better go to bed now, lots of ‘helping’ to do tomorrow and mort importantly, playing with all the interesting stuff before Mummy takes it off me, like car keys, phones and buttons on the oven that set alarms off. Hours of fun.
Night night, Love Little Pickle x