The shoemakers children are the last to get shoes. Poor Oscar has been the last to get sock toys lately. This morning he decided to take matters, or the newly completed chocolate woof woof to be precise, into his own hands. Nooooo… it’s mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Miiiiinnnee. I lost yet again to the will of an almost-two-year old. To be honest I didn’t put up much of a fight. Oscar was cuddling the woof for dear life and it was so cute that I didn’t have the heart to pull them apart. I still get a thrill out of the fact that the muchkin loves my softies so much. Although in fairness he also gets a thrill out of kitchen mops and brooms. I think I’ll stop typing now.