Fair point, I DO write a lot

What my six-year-old can't do with paper, the inside of toilet rolls and sellotape, isn't worth doing.  The other day he constructed a clever little hand-held device thingy, all pointy and just super.
He asked me if I liked it.
"Yes, it's great Daniel, is it a watch?"
"No."
"Is it a wrist band?"
No."
Think woman, think.
"Ah, is it a Ben Ten Omnitrix?"
"No."
"I givey up love, what is it?"
"A knuckle duster."

I've written about my dear father before and the post-stroke / mid-dementia state of his mental health. One beautiful story from just a few weeks before he went into full-time residential care is this, short and simple.
He rang my mum to ask what her number was.
For 15 minutes mum tried to explain that he already had her number as he had just called it but it was to no avail so she distracted him by asking what the weather was like (even though they lived about a mile apart).

I'm happy to report that my dad has taken to residential care like a duck to water.  I made a surprise visit this week and arrived to find he was down the pub with a fellow lady resident!
The carers had mentioned that my dad had struck up a friendship with a lady called Dorothy so I naturally presumed he was out with Dorothy.
When they arrived back, I rushed over, keen to say hello to Dorothy, only to be quickly corrected by one of the carers.
"Oh, that's not Dorothy, that's Margaret, Dorothy's over there," pointing to the lady who was glaring a jealous glare at Margaret as she waltzed back in from the pub!
You still got it eh dad!?

I seem to be making incorrect presumptions quite a lot recently.
I'm setting myself up as a freelance writer with a Government start-up scheme and I have a mentor who is guiding me through the Business Plan preparation.
We met the other day to discuss the first draft of my Plan.
Now, friends have often said the biggest hurdle to my entrepreneurial dreams is that I'm not very good at selling myself and believing in my abilities.
As this is something I'm trying to work on, the perfect opportunity arose when my mentor looked over my draft plan and said: "Well, I can see you're a writer."
Normally I would have replied: "I'm not that good, there are much better writers than me, I just like throwing words together."
But I decided the new me would accept the compliment so I simply said: "Thank you."
He looked up, surprised at being thanked and corrected himself: "No, I just meant you'd written a lot more than most people do."

My wonderful son Teddy has been at it again, opening his mouth without the words passing anywhere near his brain beforehand.
On the way to Bridlington this week, the train slowed and I told him to put his coat on as we were nearly in Hull, where we had to change.
We passed a football stadium just before we arrived in Hull station.
"Mum, is that Huddersfield Town?"

I speak Portuguese (as does Teddy, much better than me).  But it occurred to me today that, other than being able to converse with my Brazilian neighbour in her native tongue and sing along at Nando's, it's not of much benefit in West Yorkshire.

I've written a poem about ballet and I've got something to say about the ladies toilets at Marks & Spencers but I'm trying to learn from my mentor that less is more!

(PS: I'll be back)

My dad

Let's hope Joseph Priestley never needed to order a ham and cheese toastie

Teddy (11) has been doing his homework.

He had to make sentences using ten words which he then needs to learn for next week's spelling test.

"Muuuuum, what does psychic mean?  Is it like Robin is to Batman?"

I don't feel I need to write any more in my blog this time.  Less is more and all that....

But any longstanding withdewrespect reader will know full well, that's never going to happen.

Am I bit strange (no, you can't send answers on a postcard!)?

I like school dinners, hospital food and especially the food in little compartmentalised plastic cartons on aeroplanes.  What's that all about?  (that's not rhetorical, I'll ask my therapist)

I like the television volume on an even number (preferably 10) and my coathangers all have to be the same way around.  Isn't that just good sense?

My OCD stared me in the face the other day when I spotted 6-year-old Daniel wiping his mouth with a wet wipe after tea, opening the Brabantia and giving it a quick wipe round the inside rim before throwing the wipe inside and closing the lid with his elbow.

Daniel and I share brown eyes, and clearly so much more.  We struggle to walk down the street together as we bump into each other as we try to avoid the cracks in the pavement.

However, my little 'quirks' aside, at least integrity is high on my list, if not at the top of, my approach to parenting.

I just don't get those smug and overtly mumsy mums in the park who say in a very loud voice, for everyone to hear: "Come on sweetheart, ten more swings then we're going home to make gluten-free brownies and play Junior Scrabble before we get out the crafting activities and enjoy our salad and fruit lunch."

You know full well that as soon as they get home they'll stick CBeebies on the box in the kids' bedroom, hand out the Hula Hoops and Haribos, put the kettle on and settle down to watch Jeremy Kyle on catch up.

I've been reading about Joseph Priestley (1722 - 1804) this week.  No, not an actual proper book, just on Wikipedia.  (I would read an actual book but I've still got seven episodes of Jeremy Kyle to get through)

Joseph was born in Birstall, near Batley, not a million miles from where I now live, hence the interest.

What a guy!  He was a theologian, clergyman, natural philosopher, chemist, educator and political theorist who published over 150 works, and was credited with the discovery of oxygen and invention of soda water.

Blimey, what a super intelligent chap.

Or so I thought.  Until I read this paragraph.

"Priestley's illness left him with a permanent stutter and he gave up any thoughts of entering the ministry at that time. In preparation for joining a relative in trade in Lisbon, he studied French, Italian, and German in addition to Chaldean, Syrian, and Arabic."