It was a sort of spaghetti and meatballs moment

Ned’s lack of sleep is a bone of contention as well meaning people weigh in with plenty of “tips” to ensure the wee man sleeps through. One of the oft repeated common suggestions is to fill him up with dinner so he doesn’t wake up hungry in the night. Easier said then done when he functions almost entirely on “SNACK” all day long.

When Ned’s not getting down from the table to open a can of whupp-ass on people he occasionally shows a mild interest in his dinner. This mild interest never usually extends to more than prodding stuff about until he can make a fuss about pudding but it does change when he’s presented with spaghetti.

I can’t eat, I’m playing my harmonica

Last night was a spaghetti and meatballs sort of evening. Wifey was out in the big smoke, the boy was on a playdate with one of his buddies and I needed to eat fairly early in order to let my dinner go down before playing football. All the circumstances conspired for an enormous bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. With rather too much garlic.

Ned loves spaghetti. More so than most other sorts of pasta, which is odd as it’s much harder to eat than say fusilli. I had to cut it down into 5cm strips for him but he kept on asking for more, and for once there was more in his mouth than on the floor. In fact, when I popped to the kitchen to get everyone a drink, he’d helped himself to his third of fourth helping and was sort of wearing it like a hat.

Of course it made naff all difference to his his sleep- he was up once in the night and for good at about half past six. But he didn’t half enjoy it.