Silly old bear

I finally returned some books to the children's library yesterday. Good job there are no fines on children's tickets. I had decided not to get any more books out. This is because the location of the children's library in Wigan is highly inconvenient. I can get the bus for about £3.70. This is for a four-mile journey and back. Or I can drive and pay to park, for £1.30 minimum. Or I can drive, park at Tesco, walk for 10 minutes with a bag full of books then have to go and buy something in Tesco afterwards.

So I get to the library and little man runs over to the carousels full of older kids' books and starts pulling them all out and putting them in the wooden boxes full of baby books. In between returning all these books to the carousels I see a baby book that has actual real bits of knitting in it. Done on a machine, obviously, but I have to get it out. I see another 'Just like Mummy' book and it's cute so I decide to have that one too. Then I show little man one called Five Little Sleepyheads that has sliding tabs, which he has never used before. Each one changes a cuddly toy from awake to asleep.

So having realised that I am going to get some books out, I also head for the story CDs for the first time. Pooh Bear. Yes please. We have had it on in the car. Judy Dench is wonderful. I love the stories. I don't think little fella has noticed that it's no longer the radio or my new CD of Hungarian Gypsy music. (It's great, you can sing along without knowing the language because there's a lot of dum-de-dumming and la la la la LA la la la la LAing.)

But anyway, the whole point of this post is that I love the idea of Pooh Bear floating up to the top of a tree to find the honey by using a blue balloon to look like the sky and rolling himself in mud so he looks like a little black cloud. He doesn't get the honey because he ends up about 20ft away from the tree and Christopher Robin has to shoot the balloon to get him down. I think I had a deprived childhood; I don't remember ever reading Winnie the Pooh.

Little man hasn't noticed the new books either. He is sticking to the tried-and-tested Lift-the-Flap Tractors book. Personally, I would like to wring Henny the bloody Hen's neck and roast her for dinner.