Shades, scaredy dogs, sofa's and Crossroads Motel

I know there's a lot of pictures tonight. I know I should describe each one. But I just can't be bothered.

Most are self explanatory, but others may appear less familiar. The latter three are shots Carole took last week in her plush Manchester hotel. I assume the gigolo hid under the bed at this point. While the previous three feature a pyjama'd Luca as he sits atop our new sofa.

Yes, at last we have furniture suitable for eagerly anticipated visitors. And family. The four pieces - armchair, 2 seater, 3 seater and pouffe (snigger) - were delivered this afternoon to a grateful household and Luca wasted little time in acclimatising himself with the feel of dead cow on his derriere.

The family bit was a joke obviously.

I love it already. The Champions League match between Arsenal and Barcelona was played tonight, and the terrific game was a perfect accompaniment to our new seating. Carole's in her element too - she now has new furniture with which to rearrange the living room ad infinitum. "Nothing matches in here now" she commented tonight, with a glint in her eye that suggested further changes were afoot. I expect my weekends schedule is being devised in her mind as I type.

Hopefully we won't hit the home furnishing stores too early on Saturday however. On Friday night we're out at a wedding in Aberdeen. Friends of Carole's, and unfortunately I don't expect to see many recognisable faces present. This leaves me with two viable options:-

A - Avoid alcohol and present myself in a positive and social manner, amusing all with wildly humorous stories and anecdotes

B - Drink like a dehydrated fish and endlessly regale others of the evening I spent fishing my sons poo out the bath with my bare hands

It's late and I'm tired so I'll list the major events of the last few days in a concise manner:-

Saturday:-

Gary - Working (on-call was a b*tch)

Carole - Unpacking from Manchester and attending an 80's themed hen night

Luca - Whining

Sunday:-

Gary - Working (seriously, it was a **** weekend for me)

Carole - Hangover recovery, zombie film watching

Luca - Whining

Monday:-

Gary - Work (there's a theme forming here)

Carole - Work

Luca - Nursery ("No pushing or biting Daddy, I a good boy")

Tuesday:-

Gary - Dentist, crown fitted. Can't stop licking the damned thing now

Carole - Laughing at my discomfort (with a little TLC added to be fair)

Luca - Objecting ("No want my milk" "No want my pyjama's" "No want to say night night" "No want to wash face", etc, etc)

I'm slowly getting used to the crown. It's a first for me, so I'm attempting to become accustomed to the sensation of a foreign object stuck tight in there. It's not easy though, as other than food the only things I ever let near that part of my face is Carole and any toy cars Luca decides will fit (mouth, ears, etc).

I think that's it. Not too much else to report, mainly due to the ever worsening weather we're encountering again. Indeed, at one point today it looked like I'd be forced to spend the night in the office as the main road home (the A96) was closed.

I normally attempt to end on a Luca story. Unfortunately I can't recall any of worthy mention. We're attempting to hone his manners just now though. We're encouraging him to respond with the word "pardon?" rather than his present "what?". It sounds minor but is necessary, as his enunciation of "what" is of the abrupt variety. It's pronounced "wot" and makes him sound like an aggressive Essex boy auditioning for a part in Eastenders.

**Useless fact of the day - The leather used for sofa's is made out of animal hide that has been tanned and cut. Animals include cattle, bison, deer, elk, moose, pig, goats, rabbit, cat, sheep, caribou, etc**

Mum's home

Last night, as the clock struck 8 (actually, about 8.23 ish, but that sounds less dramatic) Carole returned home. Unluckily Luca was already fast asleep, while I was well on my way to a level of inebriation equal to that of Keith Moon's lunchtimes

In other words, veering toward a jolly level of squiffy but still essentially intelligible

She didn't seem to mind too much however, and after the prerequisite hugs and kisses told me all about her trip. Unfortunately as I continued drinking I can't recall too much of what she said.

Later we watched "The Blindside", a Sandra Bullock film (based on true events - allegedly) about a large, ill-educated, black teenage boy who comes to live with a well-to-do white family. He overcomes all obstacles along the way and go's on to become both a success, both in his career path (he becomes a famous American football player) and in a social sense too (he's a wonderful human being).

Honestly, I'm not making this up. Someone in Hollywood gave the green light to the biggest load of schmaltz that ever exploded across a cinema screen. Seriously, it was so "worthy" it was borderline racist. Only "Driving Miss Daisy" and "The Green Mile" have had more generically backward black characters.

Sample dialogue:-

Rich white mom - "We'd like to become your legal guardians"

Big black teenager - "What does that men?"

Rich white mom - "It means we want you to become part of our family"

Big black teenager - "I thought I already was"

I'm not making this up.

Anyway, what is this? "Film Review 2010" with Jonathan Ross? We were woken early this morning by Luca's abrupt arrival at the foot of our bed. "Morning time" he squealed before yanking open the curtains to prove his point. As glad as she was to see him I'm certain his Mum wasn't over enthused by his presence at that early hour. We still rolled out of bed though, and joined him downstairs for some breakfast. "No like that, no want that" was Luca's response to every breakfast item offered to him by his Mum, as if he felt the need to abruptly remind her that her rose tinted view of him after three days absence doesn't change the fact he can be the most obstinate, pedantic little monkey in the borough.

Later we drove to Aberdeen together to collect the in-car DVD player we'd ordered for Carole and Luca's journey to Lincoln in a fortnight. On the way home we took a diversion by a field I pass every day on my work commute. I'd surmised that Carole and Luca might be enchanted by baby ponies (as depicted in today's picture) and wasn't proved wrong. "Bye bye horseys, I'll be back soon" called a clearly enamoured Luca as we left.

**Useless fact of the day - Sima has now officially been renamed Yoda. The new dog tag with her new name arrived in the post today and will be modelled by the pup in the next blog**

Home tomorrow

I've been bored while you've been gone so I did some press ups.

We've just had an incident. Perhaps I should have guessed something was remiss. We ran a bath for Luca after his tea tonight, and as he climbed in he turned to me and said "You go away just now, yeah?"

Thinking he simply wanted to play with his bath toys uninterrupted for a few minutes I allowed him his space and retired to the bedroom. Suddenly the call rang out "Daddy, come quick, waters dirty!"

He'd had a poo in the bath. Multiple brown droplets, similar in appearance to chocolate raisins but with a slightly less stable consistency. With several agonising yet dexterous movements I swept my hand through the water to collect each one. I've rarely had such fun.

Hi Kelly, how you doing? Don't know why I thought of you right now.

I wasn't as appalled at this incident as I normally might however. This was actually the second poo situation I've encountered today. I arrived home from work early this afternoon to take the dogs on a long walk, and on returning brought them into the house while I boiled the kettle. Suddenly I heard it. Pppffffpppffff.

Isis - who'd emptied her bowels only 15 minutes earlier beside a tree - proceeded to deluge a tsunami worth of diarrhoea across the hallway floor. I stood frozen in shock as she stared back at me, never wavering her stare until she emptied out the very last drop.

Dumbfounded? Exasperated? I don't think the Oxford English Dictionary contains the word to adequately describe how I felt at that moment.

I enjoyed the cleanup. I was the highlight of my week thus far.

Luca had a difficult night again last night. Routine was met through to bedtime, and he fell asleep shortly after his bedroom light went out. However, he awoke at 11pm after a nightmare, not crying but screaming. I settled him down, but over the next couple of hours he awoke frequently with unstoppable tears. Eventually - probably around 2am, I'm unsure - I brought him through to sleep with me. At this point he snuggled in and slept soundly till dawn.

There's no question. He's fully aware of his Mum's absence and although generally very happy and well behaved is disjointed by the change, hence the "firsts" we've encountered.

**Useless fact of the day - Parents of toddlers are encouraged by child psychologists to act like idiots. "Even the most defiant toddler will take pity on us if we seem like total incompetents," says Harvey Karp, M.D., author of the DVD and book "The Happiest Toddler on the Block." The trick is to convince your child that you should be helped, not resisted. I think I could master this "technique" (indeed likely already have)....**

2nd in a 3 part series for an absent Mummy

Carole's absence last night coincided with Luca's worst night of coughing in almost a year. Typically I'd run out of "Tyxilix" (child cough mixture) and as such was faced with the choice of taking young mop top with me (resplendent in his pyjama's) to the supermarket to buy more or hope the fits abated. I chose the latter. I chose unwisely.

He was still awake at midnight, unable to rest long enough before the next attack began. Gratifyingly he calmed after that and slept fitfully for the next seven hours. Unlike his Dad, who read a novel from back to front in order to stay awake and listen out for any peculiar noises. Of course there were none. Other than Sima/Yoda's snoring. Seriously, she sounds like that bit in "The Empire Strikes Back" where Yoda tells Luke Skywalker "Judge me by my size do you? Hmmm? Hmmm?"

I watch too much sci-fi.

Anyway.......Here's a picture of Luca, taken on Sunday as he relaxes on what was to become the first suite purchase our family has made. "Luca's chair!" he squealed as his enthusiasm quelled our buyers doubts.

And here's the smaller two seater sofa. Looks comfy? It is.

Above is the only relatively legible picture of Luca I was able to take tonight. Look carefully and you'll notice a very conspicuous mark to the side of his nose. His nursery nemesis Max attacked him again. Max, by all accounts, is a little toward the "slow" end of the spectrum and as such allowances are made for him. That said, if this continues I might be forced soon to request Max's exclusion.

Carole called this evening having just completed a gym session before getting dressed for her four star hotel dinner. But before making the expected disparaging remarks about the lack of studying being undertaken I detected a hesitancy in her voice. It transpires after only one night away she's desperately missing home. Luca, of course, refused to speak to her, leaving a rather dejected sounding Mum.

After hanging up, however, Luca stopped what he was doing and sat back quietly with a sad look upon his face. "What's wrong?" I enquired? "I want Mummy" he mumbled.

I immediately called Carole back and this time Luca snatched the phone. "Hallo Mummy" he shouted, "I miss you very much"

I think she may have cried after hanging up.

**Useless fact of the day - George Lucas based the character of Han Solo in Star Wars on his fellow director Francis Ford Coppola**

Story of an evening

"It's oh so quiet" sang Bjork, and I know how she feels. Carole flew to Manchester earlier today for a three day course leaving - for the very first time - me alone and solely responsible for the safety and care of the boy. Gulp.

With this I feel it necessary to designate the tone of this blog solely toward Carole's tastes, and allow her unfettered access to her baby and home (via her laptop which handily accompanied her on the trip). First off is tea time. "Had enough beanies Daddy, would like somefing else now".

Luca's subtleties show no bounds. The term "somefing else" always indicates he wants chocolate or jelly sweeties.

"Been a long day" he sighs, "I very tired now". This tiredness lasted as long as it took Isis to afford him a facewash of dubious appeal.

"I having a wee wee, don't look at me"

"Mmmm, dolly mixtures"

"Daddy, I can't find Mummy's toothpaste"

"I know Luca, Mummy and her toothpaste are in Manchester. She left today on an aeroplane"

"Oh OK then. Is she with Granny and Granda then?"

"Think I just brush the front teeth" he ponders inwardly, "Daddy no see the dirty ones at the back"

"Finished!"

I know that face - what do you want Luca?

"Storytime! Ladybird lost all it's spots. Where they all go Dad?"

"I go to sleep now, go away Daddy"

No Carole. Luca's sleeping. I'm lonely now.

But I get to watch football on TV instead of Eastenders! Hooray!

Night Carole, sweet dreams;)

How much shampoo do I put in the dishwasher again?.....

**Useless fact of the day - In 6 states of America over 30% of the population live alone**

Does anyone still read blogs?

Does anyone know the song "On My Own" (most prominently featured in uber-musical "Les Miserables")? If you do you'll be aware of the lyric (in the fifth verse for the more fastidious among you) "And I know it's only in my mind that I'm talking to myself"

Yeah, I'm feeling like that just now. As self-aggrandising as these blogs are to write I may discontinue if there's no-one reading them. I could illuminate my spare time more constructively (!) with endless updates of my "Fantasy Football" team.

Yes, it's that time of year again where I allow any and all of my disillusionment's to overflow from the more unsatisfactory elements of my existence into those of which are usually on the more positive end of the spectrum. Just ignore me.

Duly ignored, I'm certain you've paid heed to the photo's above demonstrating (in descending order):-

1 - Luca wearing his Mummy's shoes while Sima (nee Yoda) looks on

2 - Luca dragging me out of bed this morning. Also featured in the pictures top left corner, sat atop the bedside cabinet, is a book that demonstrates my continued and unhindered form of cultural education:- "Star Wars - X-Wing Rogue Squadron Comic Omnibus"

3 - Luca in his Mum's shoes. Again. I try not to worry about his forthcoming "confusing" teenage years.

The final images shown today are a (relatively) accurate portrayal of our new suite. As our existing sofa is older than the Catholic Church and smaller than said churches usual Sunday congregations it's replacement has long since been overdue.

With this in mind we three Musketeers (Gathos, Carthos and Lucamis) drove to Aberdeen this morning with the unenviable task of trawling endless furniture stores to battle the might of Cardinal Richelieu's guards - or more accurately the overly exuberant attention of sofa salesmen and their commission based pay packets.

Luckily, we struck upon a deal in only (only!) the third store we visited. Although the search was initially centred mainly on corner sofa's, one particular standard 3 seater stood out both for looks and comfort. Our initial lukewarm interested was intensified by the realisation that the price (already £600 below our maximum budget) also included a 2 seater sofa, an armchair and a footstool! After a discussion with shop staff it was revealed the price was due to it being a poor selling variation of last seasons stock (they were simply trying to get it out the door to create space)

So there you go - next time you visit you'll have somewhere to sit! I am, of course, assuming someone is reading this......

I would divulge more, but Luca has awoken from his afternoon nap and his coughing is rather too akin to that of a 40-a-day 75 year old smoker. I'd best attend to him. Don't worry about him however, he loves cough mixture. Hopefully this time I'll remember to give him the child's cough syrup rather than with the heavily alcohol concentrated adult version I supplied him with last time.

Which reminds me. I allowed Luca a brief sip of my glass of Jack Daniels and Coke last night. It resulted in him pulling the funniest face I've ever seen. "That's not very nice" was his understated opinion once the tears had cleared from his eyes.

**Useless fact of the day - The average sofa will witness 293 arguments, 1,300 cuddles, and suffer over 1,600 spillages in its lifetime**

Movies and Mothers Day

Peculiar prose alert today - due to the aberrantly high supply of photo's today I'll only add a brief compendium beneath each picture before adding a little more descriptive detail of events at the bottom of the blog. Got it? Good, let's go............

Taken beside a war memorial in Kintore yesterday after a haircut leaving Luca's hair as ill befitting as my "floppy fringe" style circa 1992.

A haircut almost as inept as my skills with a camera. Perhaps it's just as well considering how bad this haircut is.

Oh no, here it is in all it's glory. Wonky back? Check. Flagrantly uncut sides? Check. Fringe so straight Jim Carrey's character in "Dumb & Dumber" would have been proud of it? Check.

Even Luca looks embarrassed by it.

We're back at the car now and he's still unimpressed.

How bad is a haircut before a three year old stands in front of the mirror and scowls at himself?

Whew, no more bad haircut pictures. Here's my attempt at a Moroccan Filo dish on Saturday night. Yum!

I made some sort of lentil s**t for Carole too - Filo pastry is high fat so I needed to make something girly for Carole to fill up on instead.

And speak of the devil - here she is outside a Mexican restaurant earlier today with Mum. I actually took three photo's but this is the only one Carole smiled on. Mum, though, is still smiling even now as she held that grin so long the wind changed.

OK, back to the start and a return to the more sensible system of a chronological order of events. On Friday, upon returning from work, I threw both wife-to-be and son into my "economical" car and raced (raced in a relative sense) toward Banchory to drop Luca with his grandparents before continuing to Aberdeen to visit the cinema.

The little Toyota covered the ground quicker than I'd anticipated, and as we arrived early into the city we decided to grab a quick bite first. Handily placed was a Turkish restaurant, "The Nargile" (http://www.rendezvousatnargile.co.uk/welcome.asp). Fantastic food - the lamb literally fell off the bone in Caroles dish - but rather pricey for a pre-cinema quick bite.

Still, it was worth experiencing though, and the movie that followed later in the evening - "Shutter Island" was similarly interesting. Not a classic however, as disappointingly we'd sussed the final twist rather early in the film.

Good stuff though, a proper old fashioned "whodunnit" albeit featuring a number of harrowing scenes that resulted in quiet contemplation on the drive home.

At 9am on Saturday morning - at which point I barely felt I'd slept - I hopped back in the car and motored back to Banchory to collect Luca. He was, of course, quite nonplussed to see me as he hugely enjoys the time he spends with Granny - Daddy's a real disciplinary disappointment in such situations. Still, he was allowed a little more time with her as I drove her to Aberdeen to meet her friends for lunch.

Once we'd dropped her off - and only after a rather alarming moment when she admitted she couldn't remember her friends address - Luca and I turned and drove toward home. "I miss Granny" he muttered only seconds after she got out the car. I peered into the rear view mirror to sympathise with the mite, only to be alarmed by the sight that presented itself. Luca's hair, as you know, had reached a length comparable to Rapunzel's and this, allied to to the static effect commonly caused by his car seat resulted in an image comparable to the day Albert Einstein stuck his finger in the electricity socket.

Spurred by the sight of my son resembling an unkempt caveman I turned the car toward the nearest barber shop, in this instance the "Barbers Pole" in Kintore. Luca was quite excited initially as we sat inside awaiting our turn, but as is so common he changed in the blink of an eye. Once he'd been sat on the chair with the black cover draped round his shoulders he burst into uncontrollable tears. "What's wrong?" I continually asked through the flood emanating from his eyes. "Need a cuddle" he was eventually able to get out in short bursts in the brief breaks between wails. I eventually was able to calm him, but only after agreeing to sit on the chair myself with him perched atop my knee.

Still no excuse for the lass providing the worlds worst haircut since Ghandi asked for "a little more off the top please"

Saturday brought more consternation that evening by Luca uncommonly being unable (not as initially thought unwilling) to sleep. Due mainly to a recent lack of routine, alongside an overlong afternoon nap, he wasn't able to sleep and was continually up and down until after 10pm. Indeed, at one point I fell asleep on his bedroom floor as he sang to me while attempting to mould my left hand into a variety of unnatural positions. Your pinkie should never be at more than a 180 degree angle from your thumb.....

Today - being Mothers Day - I awoke early. I digress, Luca woke me early. "I had a nice sleep Daddy" he hollered unexpectedly from the bottom of my bed. Still, at least it began my day in earnest as I struggled up - Luca replacing me in our bed naturally - and sloped downstairs to prepare Caroles breakfast in bed.

Although it wasn't a stellar attempt as we'd run out of eggs leaving Caroles Mothers Day breakfast to be toast with mashed banana on top. Which Luca ate most of anyway.....

Still, she appreciated her gifts although mostly the handmade card Luca had prepared for her. "That's Mummy" he proudly declared as he pointed to the hand drawn picture on the front of a circle with apparently unrelated lines scored across the rest of the page.

We soon loaded up and drove - again - to Banchory. Dad had agreed to babysit (see his blog for details of their activities) while I took Mum and Carole out for a Mothers Day treat of lunch and a movie. Lunch was good (Chiquito's - Kelly's old underpaid haunt) although the movie less so from a personal perspective. I took the two Mummy's to see "Alice In Wonderland 3D" which although a genuine spectacle still resulted in being the first film I've ever seen in the cinema that sent me to sleep.

Three times!

Still, the film choice wasn't designed to appeal to me and the girls seemed wholly entranced by it. Mum in particular was talking to the movie screen long before the end. "No she's not", "Oh that's lovely" were amongst many phrases unconsciously muttered by a woman in her fifties who had so clearly become a child again during the films two hour journey.

**Useless fact of the day - Lewis Carroll (the writer of Alice In Wonderland) is actually a pen name for Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, a lecturer in mathematics at Christchurch University in Oxford, England**

Eat your tea Luca

Not much to report. Same old same old. Caroles been working and doing the step class thingummyjig stuff. I've been working, gymming (Oxford English will doubtless sue me for fragrant and continual misuse of the English language if they ever stumble upon this blog) and playing football atrociously. Luca? Well, it's Luca, take a guess.

Completely unrelated to the picture above - I'll come to that shortly - Luca had a pyjama party yesterday at nursery. As his Mummy had to leave early to drop her car off at the garage I was left with the task of organising the lads alternative morning routine. "Would you like toast and milk for breakfast?" I enquired hopefully. "No" came the quickfire response "Ribena and chocolate, we have it in the living room".

Of course that wasn't the only argument I had with him. He didn't understand why I was trying to put his coat and shoes on when he was still attired in his pyjama's. Those big brown eyes kept glancing confusedly up at me. "No Daddy, I still wearing my jamma's"

Tonight - as I'm certain you've already ascertained by the viewing the pictures above - Luca and I went out for supper together. As Carole was predisposed by her Wednesday fitness class I decided to take Luca for his "Kids Club" meal in the cafe of the local supermarket. He loves it, although his burgeoning OCD tendencies come to the fore as he chooses the same table on each visit.

He's surprisingly well behaved though, and personally I prefer to be out chatting with him rather than be faced with the distractions of home and his "soft seat and telly".

It is time for a haircut though isn't it?

Once his plate had been cleared we ventured forth into the supermarket itself to pick up a few essentials. And a few non-essentials too that he acquired while my back was turned. What's that in his hand? A big bag of his favourite jelly sweets. "It's OK Dad, I carry these" he helpfully suggested.

BOO! As an antithesis to the slightly over exposed Luca (I'm certain even the most doting of Gran's may become weary after six Luca photo's in a row), I took a quick snap of myself to demonstrate why Carole may at times exhibit a slightly worried demeanour - this is the first thing she see's EVERY morning. I'm certain even the most spiritually enlightened Nuns may become a little Rose West-esque after too prolonged a period.

**Useless fact of the day - The colder the room you sleep in, the more likely that you will have a bad dream**

Run for your lives - it's a Carole hangover!!

Carole had her second night out of the weekend on Saturday night - ostensibly leaving me as a weekend single Dad. Curiously I'm quite glad the nights are past, as despite my habitual craving for quiet (man) time I was left with a quite unnatural sense of unease and restlessness, which I attributed, perversely, to loneliness. I've never felt lonely in my life, despite having spent seven years (yes, I just calculated it in my head) of my adult life living alone. Is this a sign of contentment, acceptance or old age? Or all three?

Despite this, Luca and I made the wise decision to vacate the house at 8am on Sunday morning. As Caroles slumber reached it's conclusion we - as in shaggy headed shorty and I - decided to jump in the car to escape the imminent Mummy hangover. The sky was clear and bright as we left which augured well for a fun morning.

And fun it was, mostly at least. We began the day with an early swim at Inverurie Swimming Pool. "I like the big bath" grinned the youngster as he confidently strode through the water, impressively nonplussed as the level reached his neck and splashed onto his face. Unfortunately this activity was short lived due to the number of bodies that arrived at the children's pool even before 8.45am. As good as it is to socialise him, my worryingly short temper got tested every time an inappropriately aged brat - there were children of almost ten years of age being taken into the kiddies pool by their clearly moronic parents - deluged Luca with yet another unadmonished dive from the edge of the small pool.

Following a shower and change ("No Daddy, these are Luca's shoes!" as he slips his feet into my size ten trainers) we drove into Aberdeen to visit the "Cineworld" cinema for the "Kids Club" film. Tickets cost £1 and with the viewings being designed for toddlers it's a great fun thing to do, even if your pik'n'mix costs more than the tickets and parking put together......

The main film this week was "Monsters Vs Aliens", a surprisingly funny cartoon film littered with gags which flew (intendedly) above the heads of the target audience. As good as it was - and the animation and storyline were top notch - we still left the viewing after less than 30 minutes. Despite it's "U" certificate poor Luca found it all a bit frightening. "Want to go home Daddy, I'm very scared" he whimpered as he dug his head into my chest.

On the way home we made a detour into a local "Asda" to buy a football for Luca. With the bright, warm (well, 7 degree's centigrade is positively tropical after the winter just passed) skies allowing more outdoor activities I felt a kick-around in the park would finish the morning off nicely. The phrase "best laid plans of mice and men" was never more apt as we walked out the shop with the new ball, only for Luca to trip on the kerb and land face down on the pavement. The picture above shows Luca back at the car, still shaken from his fall. "Pathetic" doesn't begin to describe that expression.

We arrived home at lunchtime at which time I fully expected Luca to gently greet his Mummy and slope quietly to bed for his afternoon nap. Somehow, however, he stayed awake, even after being settled in his room. "I had a nice sleep" hollered shaggy after a brief respite as he stood proudly at his bedroom doorway with a huge grin across his face. "What you doing?" came his next question as he eyed me working on the PC (on-call isn't fun). "Daddy's working" I replied sternly "Go back to bed".

Course he didn't. Don't be daft.

**Useless fact of the day - Experts recommend that 3-year-olds get 10 to 12 hours of sleep during the night, with an additional 1 to 2 hours of shut-eye during the day**