Imagination Movers

I’m linking up with Cas and her ‘All the Small Things’ linky again this week.  It’s a bit of a hodge-podge of stuff but in their own way, all of my children have cheered me up or made me laugh with the things they’ve said and done over the last few days.

J, at the grand old age of eight, is really starting to grasp sarcasm and comedy timing (it makes me so proud 😉 ).  He often has me in fits of laughter.  I don’t know how many of you remember an American kids’ TV show called Imagination Movers?  It was/is (?) quite a big deal (in America at least) because they were doing live tours and stuff a few years ago.

Anyhoo…I genuinely loved it.  Unlike much of the other crap children’s TV I’ve had to suffer through (don’t get me started on Peppa Pig or Numberjacks), I can genuinely say I enjoyed Imagination Movers (along with Lazy Tow for more obvious reasons.  Sportacus anybody?  Hubba hubba).

I haven’t seen the show for ages and assumed it was no longer on television (and I honestly haven’t been actively looking for it, whatever you may think to the contrary).  Anyway, this morning, J said, ‘Oh mum, I forgot to tell you, your favourite programme was on last night.’  ‘What’s that?’ I asked.  ‘Imagination Movers’ he replied.  ‘Oh, why didn’t you record it for me?!’ I exclaimed (only half-joking).  ‘Oh sorry, I didn’t think’ J said, smirking at me. ‘I’m gutted!’ I told him (again only partly in jest).

He looked at me for a long moment and then with perfect intonation and a cheeky sideways jerk of his head, he announced, ‘They’re back in business, baby!’

On the other hand M, at nearly five, is just trying to figure out the world.  He’s a clever, curious little boy who analyses things quite deeply for one so young which can make him ‘difficult’ at times (as any regular readers of this blog will know, I don’t always put it as tactfully as that).  For that reason, when he ran up to me yesterday, squeezed my leg and told me simply, ‘You’re the best mummy in the whole wide world!’ it brought a tear to my eye…and then I immediately wondered what he was up to.  I know, very cynical for one not quite so young 😉

Lastly, Z got new shoes yesterday.  Is there anything better than taking your child to buy new shoes (Apart from the £40 price tag, of course.)  He had his feet measured by the lady and chose some gorgeous brown boots. He said ‘Tank ‘oo’ to her and carried a box almost as big as him to the checkout.  Then he held it on his knee in the car.  As soon as we got home he scrambled out of the car to eagerly show them to my friend who is also his child-minder.

Later my mum came round.  ‘Look Ganma! New shooze!’ he announced excitedly.  He tried them on with his onesie with his hair still damp and stuck up in little tufts from the bath and did a mini fashion parade up and down the front room.  Luckily he didn’t ask to wear them to bed as I thought he might.

New shoes: £40.  The joyful smile on my three-year old’s face when he got them: priceless.