Prime Ministers Walk, Ballarat.

The Prime Ministers Walk features busts of all of Australia’s past Prime Ministers in a beautiful garden setting within Ballarat’s Botanical Gardens.

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In the interests of fairness, only one from each ‘side’ of politics is included here.

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There’s a Bear in There…

Some months ago, I was driving in town with LMC in the car. 

We passed a big blue house that I pass every day on my way to work. 

“That’s where the bear lives,” I said.

“What bear?” LMC asked.

This surprised me, as she watches a fair bit of TV and I thought she’d get the joke. 

“You know… the bear in the big blue house? Like the TV show?”

“Never heard of it,” she said. 

Typical. All was silent in the car except for the sad sound of a great joke falling over and dying.
I didn’t think any more of it. In fact, I had entirely forgotten about it until last Sunday when we were all having dinner together. 

“Hey,” she said, “I told my friends about the big blue house in Warrnambool, and they didn’t even know that’s where it was. They thought it was in America somewhere.”

“What?”‘I asked. 

“You know… that TV show. You showed me the house…”

Trying not to laugh, I looked at her and said, “You do realise I was joking? It’s just A big blue house… not THE Big Blue House.”

“But I told my friends! And they wanted autographs.”

“Which you were going to ask me to call in and ask for?”

“Well… yeah.”
This kid never misses an opportunity. I’m just lucky it ends in laughter most of the time. 

Overthinking.

LMC is at our place tonight. The weather has cooled down this week, so she’s discovered that the clothes and pyjamas she has here aren’t sufficient to keep her warm.

My husband said he’d lend her a pair of pyjamas, and walked away to get them.

Her teenage mind instantly went into overdrive.

“Then what will HE wear?” she asked me with a mischievous grin. Then she said, ”
Oh, never mind…”

I rolled my eyes, as I do so enjoy doing.

“He’s got more than one pair, you know!” I said.

“Oh.” Her laughter was a definite giveaway that she had immediately jumped to a rather bare conclusion.

So, he gives her a lovely newish pair of flannel pyjamas that he hasn’t worn since he was in hospital about 18 months ago.

“Oh,” I said, “those are the nice ones I bought for when you were in hospital.”

“Eeeerrrrrr!” she grunted. “I don’t want to wear them!”

“They’ve been washed since, you know!” I said.

“Oh. That’s okay, then.” And with that, she picked them up and took them to her room to get changed.

When she came out, she said, “It’s a good thing I’m not a boy. Although if I was, it would be okay cos these have got that awkward hole thingy in them.”

“If you don’t need the awkward hole thingy, can’t you just ignore it and wear them anyway?”

“Well yes… I was just saying.”

“Well, I’m just telling you to change the subject,” I said firmly.

And then we found something for her to do so that she has something else to think about.

I wonder if she has these conversations with her mother, or if she just saves them up for me.