Good Friday

I really don't know how you feel about your children, but I am now convinced that ours are completely over indulged.

Last weekend, Freya was bestowed with all manner of delights and favours on the event of her fourth birthday. Indeed, James worked late into the night on Friday, assembling her new wooden Retro Kitchen from The Great Little Trading Company - in an effort to ensure that our darling baby was appropriately delighted when she awoke.

Make no mistake, such toys are not easy to assemble, and if it was not for the fact that James had achieved the title of "UK Champion" for his skill with a Rubix Cube during the early 1980's and further, has a Masters degree in Mechanical Engineering, Freya could have been sorely disappointed. James appeared to have been defeated by the conundrum on more than one occasion during the evening.

For all the pains that were taken, Freya has spent hours this afternoon lying in the box from her special toy, pretending it is a coffin! The tot has a cushion, a sleeping bag, a box of raisins and a small bowl of chopped apple in there with her, so some modicum of comfort has been provided for the corpse. What is going through the mind of this small child?

I have deduced that the munchkin has been over-indulged, and is sensitised by the sheer diversity of gifts bestowed on her. James blames the Roman Catholic church.

Father O'Connor has been more than graphic in his descriptions of the crucifixion to the little poppets at their special children's mass in the weeks leading up to Lent. I would never take them to such events, but my mother is hell bent on introducing them to the concept of good old Catholic guilt and repression while she can.