It's Not What It Looks Like ...
Ever had a moment when you've suddenly realised that, to an outsider, what you're doing looks extremely dodgy indeed ...?
Yesterday we had a belated birthday party for my son, an opportunity for him and some friends to run around the local park in the sunshine and go nuts on sugar.
It almost didn't happen at all, the poor little guy having spent much of the previous night throwing up, victim of another one of those viruses that propagate in daycare centres the world over. Come the morning of the party, he was tired and drained - as was I, after catching only about two hours sleep from looking after him. Fortunately, while I bore the kind of haggard, bags-under-the-eyes look you normally get from heavy partying or long-term substance abuse, he bounced back and the party went ahead.
And very nice it was too. Smiley little people playing on swings and running about like loons as smiley big people looked on, happy in the knowledge that the kids would be going to sleep very early that night.
My daughter decided to exercise a little creativity, meanwhile, by designing a pinata for her and her pals. Loading a bag with lollies, she tied it to a branch and proceeded to belt it with a stick. Sadly the bag she'd chosen was made of the kind of gauzy-but-tough material you find in fine-weave net curtains - while you could clearly see the sweets inside it, you could thrash at it 'til doomsday and it wouldn't break.
Yesterday we had a belated birthday party for my son, an opportunity for him and some friends to run around the local park in the sunshine and go nuts on sugar.
It almost didn't happen at all, the poor little guy having spent much of the previous night throwing up, victim of another one of those viruses that propagate in daycare centres the world over. Come the morning of the party, he was tired and drained - as was I, after catching only about two hours sleep from looking after him. Fortunately, while I bore the kind of haggard, bags-under-the-eyes look you normally get from heavy partying or long-term substance abuse, he bounced back and the party went ahead.
And very nice it was too. Smiley little people playing on swings and running about like loons as smiley big people looked on, happy in the knowledge that the kids would be going to sleep very early that night.
My daughter decided to exercise a little creativity, meanwhile, by designing a pinata for her and her pals. Loading a bag with lollies, she tied it to a branch and proceeded to belt it with a stick. Sadly the bag she'd chosen was made of the kind of gauzy-but-tough material you find in fine-weave net curtains - while you could clearly see the sweets inside it, you could thrash at it 'til doomsday and it wouldn't break.
I'd just untied the bag and was in the middle of explaining the problem to my daughter when my boy was brought to me, busting for the toilet. Seems that after my up-all-night health care effort I was now the go-to-guy for all his little needs.
Thing is, the toilets are right on the other side of the park, so by the time we'd walked there he was wriggly and desperate and I was even more tired and put-upon.
And that, Your Honour, is why I was spotted looking seedy, with a bag of sweeties one hand, dragging an upset little boy into a public convenience ...
Ah, parenting.
posted by Pete Kempshall at 4:56 PM
3 Comments:
Pinata's are over rated anyway. Unless its wave 2 Doctor Who figures falling out of them. Preferably still sealed in packaging. Even better of you get two of each so you can open one to play with and keep another for value.
Oh no. Its happening again, isnt it?
Try living in Australia - all you can find are endless bloody Krillitane. If I ever saw a Doctor - any Doctor - I think I'd have seizure.
Yes. It's happening again ...
Krillitane are shit. fact.
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