Memory Lane And When Moomins Become Downright Creepy

Every so often, M. likes to travel down memory lane. Literally. We drive down the street and the house he lived in when he was the Little Guy's age. He points to the school that he used to study at and the spot where the skating rink used to be. ("We would walk there with our skates on.") Down the road was his best friend's house and the place where they made a fort out of some old discarded wood. Not to be forgotten, the dairy farm they would buy milk from. It was on one of these drives, that I spotted the 'moomin house.' A typical wooden house with little moomins pasted on every window and two life sized moomins by the front door. Sitting on the steps between the two giant moomins was a long haired raggy looking guy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a beer bottle in hand.

(This is probably the creepy neighbor (complete with moomin fetish) your parents tell you to stay away from.)

"Can I have a bite of your munkki?" (It was too good to pass up as a title.)

I've been covertly surprised that the Little Guy has made no shopping demands. There was a whirlwind 'mini' spree at Fazer. The "need" for assorted candies and chocolate filled eggs were satisfied in ten minutes. Probably even less when you count cue and packing time. Then the Little Guy spotted the ice cream bar at the corner. And just like that, the munkki on his plate wasn't good enough to fill a "very hungry" stomach.

Good Morning

5.30 am. I can't sleep anymore so I've decided to park myself on the kitchen table and catch up on email. It's light grey outside and the house is quiet. I mean really very, very quiet. I can actually hear the kitchen clock ticking. The Little Guy has just woken up. He's shouted "MAAAAAA." I can hear the panic in his voice. He's just realised he isn't home and the parental duo are nowhere in sight. Sure enough, the door swings open and here he comes. His arms swing around my neck and I embrace his not-so-little compact body. His hair smells good. For all the independence he's shown lately, he's still my baby. It's time to get moving. We have a 9 am flight to Moscow.

Here We Are

Here we are. It's been a long, long day. It's past 8 pm here in Finland.
The sun is up and the Little Guy is somewhere about. He's just been in the sauna and is far from sleepy. Tomorrow we take the show on the road to Moscow. Hope all fares well.