DS has had chicken pox and been off nursery. His spots crusted over unexpectedly quickly so we came back to London (where I work half the week) and swung by the nursery and the manager came out and checked and said he could go back today.
Now bearing in mind I have spent the last few days devoting every waking minute to a grumpy, bored, hug-wanting, spotty toddler, you would think he might be slightly grateful. But no. The second he saw the manager, his little face lit up and he started yelling 'out! Nur'shry!" When he realised he wasn't going in, he howled all the way home, periodically yelling 'Nuuuuur'shry!" and "Muuuum. Nooooooo".
This morning he ran in with cries of joy, leaving me standing at the door muttering 'er, bye, I'll see myself out then, shall I?"
Bloody ingratitude. I shall remind him incessantly of this when he is 18 and annoying me.