As a working parent I don't get to see Audrey too much during the week. She wakes up in the morning and I'm usually already dressed and making sandwiches out of bread and anything I can find in the refridgerator. She comes downstairs and I gently crouch and say to her "je travaille en tant que conducteur de la grue" which is French for "I'm going to work". We have a little game where we talk to each other in French or whichever Indo-European language we feel like. She says "revoir ma famille en particulier mon père" and then from nowhere the theme tune to Dead Poets Society starts playing and I start to levitate, then I drift out the window and float off to work.
After that, Audrey is left to look after Rachel. As I am absent from this situation, this paragraph will be a mixture of conjecture, assumption and what I like to call "magical thinking". First is breakfast, which is harvested from the marshmallow mines and consists of sunshine flavour yoghurt. Right after breakfast comes the first activity of the day: spying on ducks and making sure they aren't up to anything. You can't trust ducks. It's best to keep them in check and Audrey knows this well. Later, after lunch, is naptime, where Audrey falls asleep and then teleports to the astral plane and meets her spirit animal (hopefully not a duck). Finally it's the long, lazy afternoon when Audrey sits on the porch and watches the wind blowing the barley back and forth. She often wears a straw hat and chews and ear of corn whilst doing this.
Eventually, after the longest time ever, I arrive back home. Unlike Santa, I enter the house through the front door. The sound of the door opening pours in to the house like custard, apart from sound is less viscous than custard. Audrey, hearing this custardy sound, immediately jumps up and moonwalks to the door to say hello. She's always bouncy and happy to see me in the evening. She walks around and honks at various things, often carrying shoes or pegs. It's such a charm to see her toddle around, barging through obstacles like a derailed train. She also points at the cats and this and that and generally does the baby things that babies do.
As the night draws on, she gets really tired. If you aren't familiar with babies and their odd ways, it goes something like this: Instead of actually wanting to sleep or recuperate, a baby will just get more and more tired, until they get really cranky. They also start to sway and topple like they're a bit tipsy. At no point do they consider resting in response to this situation. They just start to lament that they feel really weird and lacking in energy. It is the parent's duty to trick the baby in to falling asleep. This is done with Daft Punk's 1997 song, "Around the World", from their hit album "Homework".
Once asleep she is placed in bed, safe in the knowledge that she is now around 0.3% older than at the start of the day.
