What ears?

Even with piglet in tow, the dwarfs found dressing up in time for book week at school a little too much at 7am.

A Jordanian farmer and Tigger were in the deepest doldrums.

'I don't like my taaaaaaaaail! I don't like my taaaaaaaail Mummy I want to take it off.' Rashimi whined all the way to the car as we set out. But that tail was my piece de resistance, with an unravelled coat hanger inside so it bounced, just like Tigger's. No way it was coming off.

So I had to lure them with car sweets...and I was thankful that at least one member of the tribe was not wailing, hasn't tasted a sweet in her toothless state, and didn't seem to notice her ears.

What ears?

Luckily I found one of my favourite Skandis at the entrance to the school whose son was having an equally large tantrum about his viking helmet which she had been up all night crafting. We fell upon each other and quaffed coffee, laughing hysterically.

Since meeting my lovely clutch of Skandi friends here, I've been wanting to join their club. Now I need to check out my DNA.

Maybe I really am a viking?