Along with the rest of the population, Jet has been quite hot this week. Whenever the mood takes him he is to be found parading in the altogether.
My house and garden are now littered with discarded pants and I have become more accustomed to the sight of my boy’s bits and bobs than I would care to be.
I haven’t been this intimately acquainted with him since before he was potty trained.
All this is perfectly understandable, given the temperatures we have seen this week. What is less straightforward, and therefore perhaps more typically Jetlike, are his bedtime stylings these days, which are the polar opposite.
Not content with wearing a sleeping helmet, (who needs ventilation anyway?) he categorically insists upon pyjamas whilst everyone else in London and the South East has well and truly sacked that off in favour of nudity. And not just any pyjamas, oh no. They MUST be the Thomas ones. Which happen to be flannel Great choice there, son.
Once he is fully attired, he rebuffs my suggestion that he sleeps uncovered. Furthermore, offerings of a light sheet or baby blanket meet with frank refusal. He insists that the only suitable bedding for the hottest day of the year is his normal duvet, and will not be convinced otherwise.
Meanwhile, sensible Stella is happy to be put to bed in just her vest. This admirable approach is roundly ridiculed by the soon-to-be sweatiest boy in Enfield.
As soon as he is asleep, I sneak in and remove the duvet, but I know from experience not to mess with the sleeping helmet 😀