Pratikisms

Bye bye blogger!

2007-08-07T08:34:00.000+01:00

I now have a home of my own - please change your bookmarks to direct you to my new location: Chez Moi..

My baby boy!

2007-06-29T23:01:00.000+01:00

I was just going through my laptop files for some important scanned documents when I came across some old pictures. Pictures of my little boy that brought tears to his silly mum's eyes. To see him as he was three years back, chubby and still in the throes of babyhood. So I thought I'd share some of those pix with you lot.

Here he is with his favourite comfort blanket, rather like M.Karunanidhi. He calls it 'Nemo fleece' (his first ever fave movie was 'Finding Nemo').

Size does matter!

Walking a mile in my shoes!

In the driving seat, every time!

I am sooo good!

Isn't he gorgeous? *sigh* Whatever have I done with the years? Wouldn't it be super if I could turn the clock back and see my chubby cheeked wonder again?

My son, 'Spiel'berg

2007-06-04T18:45:00.000+01:00

For someone so young, P can spin stories like a pro. We learned fairly early on to never trust every thing he said, especially when he's spouting stuff with a wicked glint in his eyes. Friends have found this out for themselves at great peril. To see him denying things, with an angelic look on his face is a sight, indeed!
Recently we were visiting friends and as it was a hot day, we sat at this nice pub by a canal and were quenching our collective thirst when a narrowboat came along. A man jumped out, went to the bridge across the canal, and opened the lock. The bridge swung out near where we were sitting and a few older boys jumped on it. P wasn't going to be left behind, oh no! He stood on the edge, much like a ship's captain and observed the proceedings. The minute the bridge became one, he lit out and made a mad dash towards us. He came to me, huffing and puffing and went 'did you see what I did, mummy?'
And I replied 'oh yes, baby, did you enjoy it?'
To which he went 'Oh no! It wasn't me that wanted to do it. Uncle did - he made me go up there. I was almost hit by the car!'
Needless to say, it was a good while before the couple could close their mouths.

He also has a ready-made reply for most situations.

'P, shall we go and pick up daddy from whereever?'
'Nah'
'Why not?'
'No need, mummy. Daddy is a big boy, he can find his way back by himself'.

Then there was the time he found a spider in the tub. I had noticed it a few minutes back and had left it there to see what his reactions would be. As he walked in to brush his teeth, he noticed the bug and let out a shout. Then there was silence.
I was puzzled. Not for long, though. He came out couple of minutes later with the explanation.
p: 'There was a spider in the tub, mummy'
Me: Really? What is it doing now?
P: Oh, it got died.
Me: How come?
P: The water came and splashed it and it got died.
Me: How did the water come and land on it?
P: Oh I turned the taps on.
Me: So you killed it then?
P: Oh no, it wasn't me! I just turned the taps on. It was the water that killed the spider.

As if one needs more proof of his way with words, here's an excerpt from our conversation as we walked back home from school today.

Me: So, baby, did you have a good time at school?
P: Yep.
Me: What's that star on your t-shirt for?
P: Oh that is for when I did some counting and didn't use my fingers. I had to add 10 and 6 but I did not use my fingers. I just used my brain. I used the fingers in my brain!

'Cos change.. happens!

2007-05-30T09:30:00.000+01:00

Every night, as he prepares to go to bed, P and I have a routine. After a story, I generally make him lie down on my lap and he'll moan 'can I go to my bed now?' Off we'd go and I'd lie down with him for a while, wish him good night and slink away. Last night, I got a rude shock. As I started the ole song and dance, P went 'can I go to my bed by myself now?'

I was shocked!
'Why?', spluttered I.

'Cos I am a big boy now', says he.
sigh

When A Child Goes Missing

2007-05-29T21:22:00.000+01:00

The UK media has been flooded with images and news reports of four-year old Madeline McCann, who disappeared from the Algarve, Portugal, more than three weeks ago. She was holidaying in Portugal along with her parents and twin younger siblings. On May 3, 2007, she disappeared from the family's holiday apartment at the Pria de Luz, even as her parents dined at a restaurant right opposite. They had checked in on her barely thirty minutes back.

She hasn't been seen ever since.

This is every parent's worst nightmare come to life; being a mum of a toddler myself, I cannot even begin to imagine what the poor McCanns must be going through every single second. Not a day goes by without them seeking some form of sustenance in the form of prayers and visits to sacred churches, to pray for the safe return of their daughter.

They have vowed to find their missing child at all costs. Public funds have been set up to aid in the search and celebrities like J K Rowling and Simon Cowell, amongst others, have contributed to this. The McCanns are hoping the toddler's distinct right eye, where the iris bleeds into the pupil, would prove to be a valuable tool in the search. They have even set up a website, Find Madeline, filled with details and photos.

Here's hoping the child is returned safe and sound to her parents' soon.

Trip to Blackpool

2007-05-25T13:08:00.000+01:00

The past weekend was a veritable treat for my little man - we decided to take a weekend break along with his favourite cousin. From what we could see, they both loved it.

At first P was a bit flummoxed by the name - he thought it meant a pool of some sort and urged me to pack his swimming trunks and not forget his swimming goggles so he 'can see under water'. No amount of explaining helped so we let him run with it.

When we ended up at the Pleasure Beach amusement park, the name caused another bit of consternation as he thought we were taking him to the beach! He wasn't very pleased to realise that the beach was still so near yet so far away. But a typical adrenaline junkie, he went on as many rides as his lack of height would allow.
On Sunday, we went atop the Blackpool Tower and he amazed us both by not displaying an iota of fear when faced with the 'Walk of Faith' challenge. It is this expanse of glass in embedded in the balcony 360 feet above ground and one can see straight down as it is clear glass! I thought I was brave to stand here; he sat down and tried to peer as much as possible into the distance!

We polished the day off with a donkey ride on the beach. Riding a donkey named Betty, P was thrilled to bits! He now wants me to print the pic I top of his astride Betty so he could show off to his mates!

What a brave lad!

2007-05-25T13:06:00.000+01:00

Look at my brave li'l boy - peering down at nothing! We went to Blackpool last weekend and this pic was taken atop the Blackpool Tower. This is the famous Walk of Faith where there is nothing but clear glass underneath your feet. You've got to remember at this point, one is at a height of 300+ metres! Totally unfazed, P sat quite comfortably on the glass and peered down below.

Letting go is for laters!

2007-05-22T07:32:00.000+01:00

My son is five years old and ever since he was 2.5, I have been getting subtle digs from the MIL's side that have gradually become stronger over the years - about her looking after her grandson without me hovering in the background, cluttering up the picture. Before you ask, yes I have left him in her care during the day, in order to acqueise to her hankering, whilst I have taken care of some odd jobs nearby. So what is the problem? Well, she wants to keep him overnight. This is where I draw the line.

A day and a night away from my son is not something I like to contemplate. Truth be told, it is the stuff my nightmares are made of. I lose my temper, I shout but I have to bind him good night and take him to bed; in the morning, I want to be there when he wakes up and comes searching for me. It still takes a while for him to shake off the sleep and the minutes he still lies on my shoulder, holding on to the last vestiges of sleep are too precious for me to let go of, even for a day.

It took me a while to form a bond with him - though I loved him to bits from the minute I set my eyes on him, it was a while before we both relaxed into our respective roles. In fact, as he becomes older, I find we get along better. And I am loathe to test this hard-won bond with my boy by letting him away for a whole day and a night. That is the second part of my nightmare - if I let him go once, he would go away and would not be my little baby who comes crying for his mummy every morning anymore.

I know I have to let go but not yet. He is just five - I want to baby him for some more years yet. Already, he shows signs of growing out of his babyhood by changing his routine - increasingly, he takes himself to bed and acts like a big boy. There will come a day when he can take care of himself but until that day, I want to enjoy every single moment. And yes, that means not letting him stay overnight away from me for a few more years.

My mum let me and brother go off to our father's native village with assorted aunts, uncles and grandparents from the time we were four - I cannot imagine sending Pratik off like that! Maybe one day, when he is 12 or 13, maybe, certainly not when he is 5 or 6!

I know S thinks I should relax a bit but he is my only baby and I am not ready to spend a night away from him yet.

Am I being a bit too clingy?

Little Chef

2007-05-20T10:30:00.001+01:00

Like most children his age, P loves to do stuff he has no business getting his hands into. DIY, stripping wallpaper, cooking... every activity we 'big people' are involved in always starts with the obligatory 'can I do it too?' The resultant NO generally never puts him off.

But the cooking thing has been cultivated happily in the nursery and school. He even went to a friend's cooking party recently. I have actually found it rather lovely to do something with him. One of our favourite things to do is pancakes. He loves holding the blender and pressing the button for all he's worth. Most of all, being so actively involved in the cooking process, he's quite eager to taste the results. Here are the pictures from our breakfast do this morning:

Busy Bee Weekend

2007-05-09T18:49:00.000+01:00

P had a real busy Saturday - he first had his swimming lessons in the morning, whichh he tried to duck out of by lying in bed with the duvet over his head. We just dragged him to the pool, nonetheless. Then he had to go to a friend's birthday party (it was a cooking party, for kids - the mum deserves a medal, I tell ya!), after which we went to lunch with some friends. We followed it up by a spot of bowling, which he loves and finished the day watching Spidey spin through the streets of NYC on the big screen. When I say big, I mean big - we were sat 4 rows from the front!

As we spent the remaining part of the long, Bank Holiday weekend DIY-ing, he had to be satisfied with being cooped up in the bedrooms. He did okay, didn't complain much. To make up for it, we went go karting on Monday. P is absolutely nuts about cars and when he learnt he was going go karting, he was so excited he kept telling us that many times! I had got S go
karting vouchers for our anniversary and half-way through it, we sat P in this mock Bat mobile type kart and S drove him round the track a few times. (I will put the pic here soon!)

So, all in all, it was one packed weekend!

My son, the philanthrophist!

2007-04-04T09:55:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, P and I decided to go to the next town to visit his cousin so he can have a play date with some family. His dad was at work and P was quite puzzled by the fact that his pater was away working and not having off-days and play dates like him. When we saw more than usual number of cars parked in the nearby streets, he was prompted to remark 'lots of daddies are at home today, mummy.'

I said 'yeah, possibly.'

He carried on, 'but my daddy has to go to office. To earn money so we can have mumm-mumm (food)'.

Me (absently): Uh-uh.

P: Then we will have loads of mumm-mumm and we can give some to Paris.

Me (startled): What? Paris? Why?

P: Yeah. If we give them some proper mumm-mumm, they can stop eating froggie legs.

Athiri Bachcha

2007-04-02T10:37:00.000+01:00

Once upon a time, there lived this little boy called, let's say, P. One day, P went on a play date to his best friend, K's house, which was a good distance away. He reached there alright and played till sun down. Then, K's mum said 'snack time' and gave the boys some yummy thingummies to eat. P, who'd never tasted something like that before, stuffed his face and asked K's mum for its name, so he can ask his mum to make it for him.

K's mum replied: 'it's called kozhukattai, P'.

Soon after, it was time for him to leave. He asked the aunty for the name again and to make sure he did not forget it, he kept repeating it to himself. 'Kozhukattai, kozhukattai' mumbled he as he walked back home. On his way, there was a short ditch and the man walking ahead of him took it at a running leap, exclaiming 'athiri bacha'. P too copied him, with the requisite 'athiri bacha'.

On he continued with his mumbling: 'athiri bacha, athiri bacha' and reached home soon.

The minute his mum opened the door, he went, 'ma pls make me athiri bacha. K's mum made it and it was real yummy'.

And she went 'athiri bacha? what is it?'
He replied 'athiri bacha, i want athiri bacha' and started whining.
After a few more mins of this, she lost it and said 'I shall give you athiri bacha' and gave him a smackeroo right on his cheeks.

P started wailing and by dinner time, sported two huge swollen cheeks. His dad looked at his swollen face and went 'look at the poor child's face, kozhukattai maadiri veengi pochu' and P shouted 'kozhukattai, kozhukattai that was what K's mum made yayy'.

His mum laughed and cried and went 'oh u poor mutt, I shall make u loads of kozhukattai'.

That, is the story of athiri bacha.

Waah, waah

2007-04-01T11:33:00.000+01:00

Making Easter Bonnets hither, baking cakes thither.... I am becoming a
veritable Martha Stewart. Eat yer heart out, suckers! HA HA!!

This is the bonnet - P came second with it!

I also baked a cake for the Craft Fair yesterday and am chuffed to say, folks thronged to partake of it. (Well, I do exaggerate a bit!)

Of Easter Bonnets, Prince Charming & Jumping Through Hoops

2007-03-31T09:18:00.000+01:00

'Get your Easter bonnets in by Friday, as we will be having the Easter Bonnet Parade later on in the day', stated the missive from the school. Easter bonnet? What the hell! I had visions of P walking up and down his school, looking like Peter Rabbit. Why in God's name would these boys wear bonnets in the first place anyway? After all, this is the land where the tiniest smudge of pink isn’t allowed anywhere near a boy (lest he become traumatised or gay in the future?) and here we are talking about decking them out in bonnets. That was when I was firmly steered in the direction of caps, hats and other manly accessories. No easy way out, then.

Giving in, I asked around work for ideas. 'Make a top hat - make it green so it looks like grass and then put Easter eggs and chickens on it' suggested one colleague. 'Or, you could dress up a baseball cap to make it look like a nest and place the eggs, chicks and things on it', quipped another. Whazisthis? Top hats? Nests with chicks and eggs? When did I die and come back as a Blue Peter presenter?

By now, I was panicking big time and decided to take refuge in that temple of modern materialistic society, Tesco's. And whoop-dee-doo, right at the entrance there was a massive aisle full of Easter-y things. The firang know how to make money, I tell you. Crepe paper, cardboard, balls of cottons, paints, all in a variety of colours, were stockpiled to the ceiling and harried parents were digging into them like they were manna from heaven. I did not have a clue what materials to procure and ended up getting two of everything. Which turned out to be the one smart thing I did.

Once home, the real battle began. I sat with the bag of goodies spread around me, along with other necessities like scissors, sticky tape and baseball cap and realised I did not have any glue. After a long trek for the same, I was now ready to tackle this thing - or so I thought. That was when I realised having ideas is one thing, execution is something else entirely. I sat looking at the pieces of cardboard, felt and the baseball cap alternatively, hoping the spirit of Martha Stewart would come and join me for a while and make the whole thing a doddle. As that did not transpire, I set about trying to tap into hitherto undiscovered, and possibly non-existent, wells of creativity.

As concocting a top hat from pieces of card were beyond my capabilities, especially without a compass to keep me on the curve and narrow, I decided to plump for the baseball cap / nest idea. My thought process ran somewhat as follows: cover the cap with green felt, send some brown felt through the shredder, glue the resultant strips in artistic disarray all over the now-green cap, plonk assorted bits and pieces of junk all over it and hey, bob's your uncle.

Remember what I said about thought and execution? Well, read it once again 'cos, as always, reality and my thoughts had nothing in common. For starters, the green felt refused to stick to the cloth cap, even after I slathered half a gallon of glue on it. I now had an extremely sticky ex-cap and some sodden pieces of green felt. Then, I shoved some brown felt through the shredder, hoping for some lengthy pieces of felt which I could twist to look like twigs. But the shredder decided to make a meal of it and I ended up with some brown felt mince. Pulling my hair out at the roots did not help. Not one bit. So I decided to stop fiddling with technology and cut the darned things into strips using old-fashioned scissors.

That complete, next on the menu was the lawn on which I had to lay my nest. Sticking it didn't work; stitching it proved lot more difficult. I binned the lot and watched 'House' for an hour. Contemplated committing blasphemy during one of the breaks by modelling the nest along the lines of Christ's crown of thorns. Finally, at 11:00 PM, S hit upon the idea of just laying the (spare piece of) green felt on top of the rudimentary circular cardboard crown base I had made, a la a green lawn and just plonking the nest and its assorted bits on top of it. Typically, I wasn't sure any idea of his would actually work. But as I sat plaiting the brown strips and strategically placing coloured feather and balls of cotton all over it, it seemed like a neat one after all. After grappling with it for a long and sleepy half an hour, I finally finished my creation. And boy was I one chuffed mummy or what?

P adored it when he saw it the next morning, thereby making it every bit worthwhile. I also got lots of 'ooh's and 'aah's at work so I think I may have pulled this thing off. I realise now that I got off lucky with the Dressing Up as a Fairy Tale character lark the school sprung on me last month. It was by sheer chance that I realised how seriously the other mums took this when I eavesdropped on a coven of them discussing what their children were going to show up as, the next day. Peter Pan! Tinkerbell!! Dick Whittington!!! Jack (not the Ripper, the other one - him with the Beanstalk)!!!! I would never hear the end of it if I sent my little man to school as his own adorable self. I had a major brainwave when I spotted a white sherwani of his hanging in the cupboard, unused and unloved, and made a golden crown to go with it and sent him off as Prince Charming, armed with a red rose, no less!

When I saw the other mums rolling in with huge bonnets, their girlies fighting their way in through swathes of tissue paper or trying to balance a tray of eggs on their heads, I felt rather proud of myself. I had come through this, hopefully without scarring P for life! And now, I am ready for the next challenge. Produce your own mega serial type saga? Come dressed as an eco-warrier? Discover the cure for AIDS for school science project? Easy peasy!

I am now Super Mummy, P says. I can do anything.
Bring it on!

Happy Mum's Day to me!

2007-03-22T19:24:00.000Z

This is what my baby got me for Mother's Day this year. I know I said I did not believe in that but he, being angrez thinks Mum's day is an essential part of the year's calendar!!!

Hoola hoop play

2007-03-12T13:13:00.000Z

We recently bought a hoola hoop for S and me to use, to help reduce our extremely fetching love handles. Of course, as with everything P decided to try his hand at it, to some hilarious moments.

The Mad Momma's Online Baby Shower

2007-03-07T18:04:00.000Z

How much can you know someone by reading their words, their thoughts, their feelings? Quite a lot, I reckon. That being so, I have been a regular visitor of the Mad Momma's blog for the past month or so (has it only been that long?!) and already the MM, OA, the Brat and Baby Bean have become an intricate part of my blogging life. I need my daily fix of what's going on in her hectic world and with Baby Bean's immnient arrival, the MM's detailed posts are keeping me as involved in the events as if I were a close mate living next door.

So, the concept of an online baby shower doesn't seem that far fetched and silly. (Even if it does, who cares?) So, here I am MM, joining your baby shower, armed with some great tulips for you and some gifts for my future SIL.
Why don't you kick back and open your presents?

And why don't you have some lovely chocs, whilst cooing over these lovely clothes?

Wish you a speedy C-sec and a speedier recovery. We will all be waiting eagerly to see the baby's pics.

Spilt milk

2007-03-04T14:52:00.000Z

P is 5 today. Unbelievable! It seems as if it was just yesterday (how cliched does that sound!) that he was a wee baby and I was a mum going crackers. New place, new role, no friends, that was my state. Struggling with the day-to-day things such as breast feeding, mashing up the potatoes and carrots, and just holding it together from one day to the next. As I see my group of blogger friends, the mommy bloggers, the mom blog network and things like that, I can't help wishing I had the blogsphere five years back. It would have prevented me from dissolving into incomprehensible tears at every point. I somehow might have been a better mum to P, if I had had a creative outlet for all my pent up frustrations.

No use crying over spilt milk, anyways, is there?

Another milestone

2007-02-27T19:16:00.001Z

TIme was, when Pratik used to be really interested in my lippy - well not that way! The colours were so bright and sparkly and he always wanted to see how I put it on. Then there was this period when he wanted me to kiss him once I've put some lipstick on. Even when I kissed him goodnight, I used to get this question: 'have you got lipstick on, mummy?'

But in the last week, he's changed. Yesterday, I kissed him bye bye at school and he was frantically wiping his cheeks! Now, he makes sure I DON'T have any lipstick on, before I kiss him!
*sigh*

School gate tales

2007-02-24T22:15:00.001Z

Every morning, just a few minutes before 9.00 AM, you would find me dragging self and P up the cardiac hills of Brentwood, to land up in a heap in front of P's school. We would arrive, breathless, dishevelled and at least in my case, wheezing like an age-old steam engine, while all around me will be the cool mums and dads, dropping their children off and taking off to work, gym or the coffee shop, without breaking a sweat.

Some of the moms are of the yummy-mummy variety - clad in designer togs and killer shoes, flawless makeup and superbly accessorized, they are the epitome of Superwomen. Some are athletic - they even come to school in their cropped, jogging bottoms and trainers to prove how fit they are. Then there are the biz types - pin-stripes, pencil skirts and formal, say bye bye, kiss kiss and off they go.

And then there's me.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

2007-02-11T08:50:00.000Z

We had a sudden, unexpected day of snow last Thursday. When we woke up and opened the curtains, the whole world was white - and wonderful. P was doubly pleased cos the schools were closed. So he had a lovely time playing in the snow. He chucked snow balls at his dad and generally spent a marvellous time rolling about in the white stuff. Check out some pix:

He sayeth, I blinketh and bloggeth

2007-02-08T07:40:00.000Z

For the past couple of weeks, I'd been dealing with P more or less on my own 24/7 as he had chicken pox and then his dad went off for a week long trip to India. As a result, I faced a barrage of questions from a variety of topics - one that is preying on his mind, with couple of friends ready to give birth to their second children are details of his own birth.

Foolish me: There you are baby in mummy's tummy.
P: How did I get there? Did you eat me?
Me: .....
P: How did I come out then?
Me: !!!
P: Did the doctor cut your tummy out to get me?
Me: (Relieved) yeah!

*********
P: Can I have a sock to make a snake?
Me: WHAT? (I have major snako-phobia)
P: Don't worry mummy, it is a toy snake it will not bite you.

*********
P: Where does umachi (God) live?
Me: In Heaven.
P: Oh? With God and Angel Gabriel?
Ahh the joys of a catholic school education!!
***********
P: Where is Heaven, mummy?
Me: Up in the sky, above the stars,....
P: Is it over Earth? Do the other planets have their own Heavens?
(P's rather keen on astronomy)
***********
P: I do not like to eat tomatoes.
Me: Why not? They are good for you.
P: Eating tomatoes will make me turn red. Antony said.
Reminds me of the Green Giant sweetcorn ad!

sigh

2007-01-03T23:11:00.000Z

Me: Pratik, you must start eating more food, you are almost 5 years old.
P: Why?
Me: If you eat lots of food, you'll be big and strong.
P: No, I don't want to be big and strong.
Me: Why not?
P: If I'm too much strong, i'll break everything.

*sigh*

The latest quip

2006-12-20T16:24:00.000Z

As I was trying to juggle two jobs together today morn, i.e reading my new Bill Bryson whilst sipping a piping hot mug of coffee, Pratik gave me an almighty kick (he was trying for a comfortable position on the coach from which he could watch Over The Hedge) and most of said liquid fell onto the book. As I turned to give him the coldest stare of the century, he looked at me which sheepish eyes and slight alarm. Then, quick to establish a purer-than-driven-snow quality, he started: "Well it wasn't actually my fault, Mummy! If it was my finger that touched the coffee and tipped it out, I would have said, yes it is my fault but it was my toe. My toe, you see, so actually it is not my fault!"

If you figure that out, drop me a line!

Nativity Play

2006-12-12T16:12:00.000Z

Pratik took part in his first Nativity Play at Infant school today. He was one of the narrators and had to say, "Inside the stable, the wisemen gave Jesus gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh." He said it oh so beautifully! Sundeep and I were sitting in the audience, beaming away! Here are some pictures and video links.

The little monster himself!

2006-12-10T14:09:00.000Z

My very own sharebroker

2006-12-10T12:41:00.000Z

Today morning, whilst taking a break from cooking lunch, I was shocked to find Pratik at the computer, looking at the IWEB website. As I didn't think his dad has left him on that, I quizzed P. He pointed at our IWEB mousemat and sai, "I saw this and typed I W E B, mummy!" I shoud explain that our mousemat, courtesy the shares website, has its homepage emblazoned across it!
My own budding shares dealer!

From the mouth of babes...

2006-12-09T18:28:00.000Z

Today morning, Pratik woke us up as he was getting quite panicked at the wastage of daytime. When I asked him what the time was (he is rather prone to wake me up well before the crack of dawn on Saturdays), he checked his dad's mobile phone to be sure. As that contraption didn't have any numbers on it, he could be heard muttering "the big hand isn't pointing to any number, the small hand isn't pointing to any number, then what o'clock is it?" Then he turned to me and went "Mummy, it is none o'clock!"

Needless to say, I got up!

***************************************************************

The other day, my choice of dinner menu came up for discussion. P wanted to eat fish and wondered why I did not cook him fish for dinner. Self, being a staunch vegetarian, decided to utilise this chance in educating him about the feelings of animals and what have you and wean him off meat. So I replied: "I do not like to kill animals and eat, Pratik." Pat came the reply: "You needn't kill it mummy, somebody else will kill it for us!"

*sigh*