16 December 2018
It was almost a "victimless crime". Almost.
However, the crime scene investigators said the spatter pattern examinations exhibit signs of elongation of the droplets as opposed to circular, which one would expect in a simple acciden. The elongation clearly showing the culprit had intentionally flicked the paint at the victims balding head. Repeatedly, in what can only be described as a frenzied, giggling assault
I'd only been left for an hour, or perhaps set up is more accurate. I mean, why would you give a two year old several pots of low viscosity paint and a brush then leave them with an apprentice grandad?
Mum and grand mum left me in charge of the whirling dervish that is our Canadian grandson. Left me well and truly stitched up with the dear child sat at the table, dressed in a plastic apron, the kind you get in lobster eateries, in front of a selection of half filled, spill proof, that's a joke, paint containers. Now, both Anne and Fiona are fairly smart people. They've got degrees and such like, but why on earth would you put a pre-Christmas wean in front of a liquid paints set? Unless you were going out and had a grudge to settle?
No sooner had the door latch clicked shut than our little darling started painting. Painting anything and everything in sight, including me, the hapless victim, the walls, furniture and floor. Meanwhile the culprit sat giggling amongst the ruins that were the crime scene, spatter marks on the walls showing the line of flight of the various coloured paints. If Joseph had been visiting in a plain black Crombie, he'd certainly have left in a technicolor dreamcoat.
As you can guess, we've left Time Bandit in 27c Sydney to enjoy a few weeks freezing our tails off in the northern hemisphere while reacquainting ourselves with the arts of babysitting, nappy changing and getting up in the middle of the night, not to check the anchor but a screaming child. During the day we get to trawl malls hoaching with people and try and stuff food into a moving target like one of these games at the fun fair where you have to throw a ball into the moving, gaping mouth of a circus clown. It's all old hat to me. I mean I've already raised four kids haven't I. Or was it three?