24/05/2014

Wilson receives some disturbing news...

Wilson has been quite subdued since visiting his mum. 

I asked him how his confession had gone and he said that before he'd broached his lack of millionaire-hood with Mrs V. he'd told his Big Sister, Andrea, what he was about to do. 

She took him to one side and advised him, 'Don't say anything about that to your mother, Mrs Vermilingua — there are things you don't yet understand.' 
'What don't I yet understand, New Dad?' he asked me, plaintively.

I said I had no idea and asked whether Andrea had elaborated on this? 
'She just said, "When you're a little older, Boo!" Really, I'm seven years old now, and she still calls me by my baby-name!'

This mystery has made him understandably tense.


23/05/2014

Wilson returns!

This morning Wilson returned from his holiday at the zoo with his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua. 

His first question was about visitor numbers on National Museums Day — and I had to admit that admissions had been low. Lower than expected, anyway.

When he asked me exactly how low I was forced to concede that there had been no visitors whatever. Fewer than one. None. Zero.

His face fell, but he philosophically admitted that 'It's always the big museums that soak up the visitors — the British Museums and the V&As of the world — while small family-run enterprises suffer!'

Then he added as an afterthought that he blamed himself for leaving me in charge when I clearly wasn't up to the challenge!