"Give me a lever long enough, a fulcrum strong enough, and a place to stand, and I will move the Earth" - Archimedes
"When I bang my spoon, my plate goes flying into the air." - Isaac Allen

So we have discovered the principles of levers in my house. In fact we even know what a lever is, because dad has said on a number of occaisions "Your spoon is not a lever."

Dad did this, because Isaac's new dinnertime trick was to put the handle of his spoon under his plate, and then bang down on the end of the bowl of the spoon, and send his plate flying.

In a fabulous display of childhood innocence, he actually managed to spray peas all over the dining room, and then when he looked over his shoulder to see what had happened, forgot that he was holding an open cup of juice in the other hand, and poured it all over his own head.

What can you do?

So now we have rules in our house about spoons as levers.

Now, to those of you who either:
a) are familiar with Medieval siege engine technogogy, or
b) have been a little boy at some point,
you will know that a catapult, is just another form of a lever. Originally designed for hurling large heavy stones at fortress walls in order to knock them down, the catapult has a number of uses that I am anticipating (dreading) seeing applied at our house.

These include the spoon catapult, and it's much more powerful cousin, the 'serving spoon' catapult. The spatula catapult, and of course the ultimate weapon: the garden shovel catapult.

So far the main use of the spoon catapult has been to lift the plate so quickly it flips over. It is, however, only a matter of time before he realizes (or one of the little urchins at his Day Home shows him) that you can use it to fling small (say...pea sized) objects over a great distance.

After that come the accuracy trials, in terms of trying to hit: the wall, daddy (bad idea), mommy (shockingly bad idea), and the cat. After that come the distance trials, which involve just how far a frozen pea can travel with one bang of the spoon.

So, that's what it's like being a dad to a (almost) three year old.

Sam, btw, has taken up shouting as his new hobby. Call us some time when he's awake. There is absolutely no way you can miss it. He lies on his back, and kicks his legs and waves his arms, and ... well, he shouts. He's not angry, at least I don't think so. He's just testing out these wonderful new things called vocal chords.

And for the singers in the audience, he has discovered that he has head tones, chest tones, and the ability to slide back and forth between them. Often it sounds like an Air Raid Siren impersonator warming up for a big show. It's actually quite humorous, but forgive us if the abovementioned phone call is brief and distracted.

All is well, we'll talk soon.