I arrived home from a trip to London this evening to find my daughter playing a fun game with my Mum, who was babysitting.
"Do you want to play, Mummy?"
"Erm. Sure. What are we playing?"
Flea did her best patient face, the one she saves for when she's explaining VERY obvious things to her aged parent.
Well, what do you think?
Obviously, she was playing, "Constructing the faces of Phineas and Ferb into Mount Rushmore on Christmas Eve, while the workers are on a break, having hot chocolate."
The space hopper is so she can hammer the high-up bits, because the imaginary ladder was too short.
Obviously.
