La's superpowers are finally and quite unequivocally confirmed

I'm overgeneralising wildly here but mothers of children with special needs seem to fall into two camps - the 'woe is me' variety and the 'this is the best thing that ever happened to me' school.

  This blog is the Middle Way, depending on our day, and, if I'm getting it right, I will explain our different take on the whole business. Today, and since Saturday, we are in total awe of La because something we have long suspected has been proved completely beyond a measure of a doubt. We now know for sure that the gal most definitely has SUPERPOWERS!

  Now our La just loves printed matter - a slight problem in a house of bibliopholes, Guardian readers and where her main carer was for many years a local magazine editor. What she does with it is scrunch it, rip it, shred it, then helpfully (she thinks) dispose of most of it behind the living room sofa. I'll come clean here, I am totally addicted to magazines since I discovered the problem page of Women's Own magazine, age 14 years. So you see the problem?

  Of course at the moment, I'm hooked on the likes of Making magazine, Mollie Makes and Craftseller magazine but that doesn't stop me picking up Sainsbury's and Red mags and any others which randomly catch my eye on my daily perusal of the newsagent section of the supermarket. All these are on top of Easy Living which my lovely Mum gets me on subscription.

  So you see the problem? I'm foverer having to hide my precious reading matter from Trasher La and often this is done in such a panic and frenzy, with her fast on my heels that I usually totally forget where I have hidden my stuff when I do allow myself a quiet moment......

  After a particularly bad week for such shennanigans, and much stress (for me, not La)last Friday when La was out of the building I calmly put all my unread papers and mags in a new place which I had hunted out and thought was truly ingenious - see pic. So where were they? 

  Would you have looked on that slender gap between the floor and the chest of drawers on the off-chance of finding those illicit secret treasures? I was super careful to really shove them right to the back so that not a tiny scrap of paper was visible from anywhere other than a horizontal position on the bedoom floor, wedged between the bed and the wardrobe.

  So guess what? La's Dad found her prostrate on the bedroom floor fishing it all out one by one early last Saturday, not 24 hours after putting the in this (you would think marvellous hiding place) when she through the coast was clear. I do not lie - explanations gratefully received. I thank you.