|waxing lyrical in the park|
Watching your children growing up is a slow process of separation. Cut the cord, wean them off the nipple, drop them at nursery, squeeze out a sibling or two to take away your attention, wave goodbye at pre-school….bye bye, little boy; hello, strapping lad.
That’s why I enjoyed my time so much with Austin today. The Daddy D was ill in bed for most of it*; ditto Gwen. Austin and I spent the best part of four hours gambolling around in the March sun, when normally we’re lucky to have 20 minutes alone together.
It was good to catch up. This is what I learnt:
- when he was younger, Austin lived in what is now our neighbour David’s house (two doors away). Austin was grumpy back then, so he lived all alone, without his family.
- he did, however, have a family of fish to keep him company. They took it in turns to come out of the water so that Austin could stroke them. They loved to be stroked.
- the people who used to live in our own house are now all dead. Austin knows this because these people were alive at the same time as the dinosaurs.
- these days, there are no dinosaurs; just a monster, who comes into our house at night. During the day, this monster hides under the car seat in front of Austin, giving him a dead leg while he’s sitting in the car.
I’m glad I was able to discover these little-known gems from the history of our street (and my son’s past). I have high hopes of three-year-old Austin developing into the Dr Seuss of our era.
|Our house…with scaffolding specially
designed to deflect the monster
* Before all female readers heave a groan and utter that hackneyed term, ‘man flu’, I just need to say: in our house, it’s me who gets man flu. The Daddy D is the one who doesn’t stop unless genuinely ill; I just writhe around at the slightest excuse, sneezing and snuffling like a truffle hunter. I see this as an important part of my contribution to the feminist cause.
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