Saturday 26th July 2014
Three days till the end of Ramadan and then we can all go back to eating in public. So for now we remain indoors lazing about in pyjamas, eating whenever the feeling arises. Not much to do today other than play with Kingsley. The apartment is as clean as it can be after an all-night party we hosted (dreadful business, adults, children and babies alike cavorting and drinking alcoholic beverages, dancing and being rowdy all day yesterday while the pious starve) save for a bunch of balloons strewn in the living room.
The boy King was curiosity itself he rediscovered these multicoloured plastic orbs floating about this afternoon and threw himself amongst them, attempts to stuff each one in his mouth ending in frustration/boredom. I of course loved that this diversion from his constant yelps allowed me to put two loads of washing on (but not much else). So into the balloons I allowed Kingsley to dive.
Imagine my horror when I read this evening that balloons cause more childhood deaths than any other toy. That’s right. Balloons. Choking being the danger (the malleable plastic having the ability to conform to a baby’s airways). So with as much pomp and ceremony as I could muster on a lazy Saturday I popped each balloon and entertained our son and said goodbye to balloons forever.