Putting Ned to bed last night turned out to be a little more traumatic (and painful) than I could have imagined. Ned can get himself into his jimjams but tends to hurl his clothes around the room, so I sent him ahead to do a wee while I picked up his clothes and popped them in the washbin. By the time I headed towards the bathroom I noticed the light in there had been turned off so I reached in ahead of me to turn the light on.
As soon as my hand entered the room, Ned sprang his trap and slammed the door on my hand. Ouch! We’ve had issues with Ned slamming doors for a while now but he’s never actually attacked anyone with a door. Oh boy, was he in trouble. There were tears and several raised voices over the following few minutes.
Fifi was so traumatised by the whole thing, that she decided to draw a commemorative picture of me, with no fingers, rollerskating.
Thanks, I think.