Monday, Monday. A relatively calm start to the week. I shamelessly made my Year 9 class listen to my radio debut - professional as ever- and enjoyed the post-Ofsted calm, despite having heaps to do.
Dexter cried when I left him at nursery, mainly due to the fact that his beloved key-worker, Sarah, wasn't there when I dropped him off. Or perhaps it was simply a case of 'start-of-the-week' blues.
When I collected the boy, Sarah expressed some concern about the way Dexter seemed to be using his feet when practising with the push-along walker. I have noticed that the boy tends to roll on to the inside edge of his feet when attempting any sort of standing, but didn't think too much of it, instead referring to him (affectionately) as Forrest Gump.
I tried not to be too alarmist about the observation, but consulted the holy trinity of the internet, my sister and my mother for further advice, and vowed to do my parental duty and book a doctor's appointment in the morning.
On a lighter note, I had to give my parental permission at nursery for Dexter to take part in Little Huffle 'Pet Week'. This inaugural event will take place next week, when the Huffle ladies will bring a selection of their animals in for the little 'uns to interact with. I demanded to be informed (and invited) if a pony is going to make an appearance, naturally.
Today's #366 photo captures Dexter 'bothering' poor Mike at teatime with some characteristically over exuberant stroking. Those poor Huffle pets don't know what they are in for...