Boy8 has transmogrified into Boy9
It was utterly disgusting. I can't believe it.
That's taken ages flown by.
So... how’s it feel being nine? <Gives Boy9 a friendly arm tap>
Boy9: 'Cool' <Punches me back>
ARGGHHHHHH that's my funny body! That hurt... <Runs>
Mrs. Amazing! He hit me!
Is there anything special, that you've learnt along the way, that you want to share?
Boy9: 'No... Why? Why do I have to share?'
You don't have to... <Powerlessly watches the situation escalate>
Boy9: 'Miss5 isn't sharing anything. Why should I share!!!'
Boy9: 'Argghhh!!!' <Storms off>
Boy9: <Slams door but sound is muffled by the door stop>
Boy9: <Hand reaches back in and moves door stop>
Boy9: <Slams door>
[BANG]
(That’s an upside down pancake 9... Only took three goes…)
As it's your birthday Boy9.
And as everyone should hear nice things on their birthday. I want to say want a brilliant big brother Boy9 is.
What a brilliant big brother Boy9 is.
There, nice. Done that <Dusts off hands>
One of Boy9’s most treasured possessions.
After his rubbers (erasers), a sticker from school, his minecraft books, some lint, his Nerf guns and bullets, and his illicit bluetack collection... Is a picture of himself holding Miss5 on the day she was born. That's hella sweet.
I love him dearly for that. Because it's made our life so much easier.
Oh! Don't think that Boy9 and Miss5 don't fight every chance they get.
Because they do. With vengeance*…
(* actually amount of vengeance varies)
Miss5: 'Stop looking at me!'
Boy9: <Is looking at Miss5> 'I'm not... You're looking at me!'
Miss5: 'Stop looking at MEEEE!'
<Sighs and carries on making sandwiches and ignoring those sods lumps of mud>
Miss5: 'ARHGHGHHHHSTOPITSPOTIT!
Boy9: <Is really looking at Miss5>
Miss5: 'ARHGHGHHH!!!'
<Sighs and weeps a little internally>
<Prepares self to resolve this conflict>
<Eats some of Boy9's sandwich>
<Turns and sees Boy9 and Miss5 locked in mutual staring-contest attack>
Boy9 stop being mean to your sister...
Boy9: 'I'm not' <Carries on staring> 'She started it'
... And Miss5 ignore him and stop staring back
Miss5: '... He's still staring!'
S-IIIIIII-GH <Tries not to explode in ball of anger and stress> <Pop>
That’s it… I’m getting the blindfolds...
Boy9 is just as kind with BabyBoy2 as well.
There is an element of Boy9 using BabyBoy2 as an excuse not to help with jobs, or as a distraction, or as a way to ignore me when I am talking, which drives me mad and makes me want to shove a pillow in his ear.
But only an element.
Well done Boy9 and thank you.
Team Parents (yay!) do not give you enough praise and credit for what you do for your siblings. Bad luck.
But know we love you 1.4% more for it.
<Removes pro-Boy9 hat, puts on quite-middling-about-Boy9 hat>
As per my own made up tradition. Rather than basically puke out a list of everything showy offy about about Boy9. Which I could do.
But won’t.
Here's a list of all the stuff you probably don't know about Boy9.
The stuff that really makes him special...
1. Boy9 still gets up early
OH DEAR BACON! What the smeg is wrong with him?
Seriously. Can't he see how tired I am? We are? Isn't he supposed to copy what I do?
Take his lead from his Dad?
I sleep as much as possible, especially in the mornings. Why can't Boy9 copy that?
Everyday, just as the mean ol' sun has jumped into the sky and those rotten birds start screaming ‘Sex! You want sex? Come get sex!’ or whatever they are singing about (it’s sex trust me, and the Cat’s exact location), there's Boy9 wide awake stood next to our bed.
Full of grump energy, bouncing about, happy to start yet another day.
Happy to be alive and ready to embrace the day.
Who on earth has he inherited that from?
[10 years B.C. (Before children)]
Mrs. Amazing: 'MORNING WORLD!' <Leaps out of bed>
Mrs. Amazing: 'What a beautiful day! Tra-la-la-la-laaa' <Skips off happy>
<Pulls duvet over head tighter> <Whispers> Nutter...
For your birthday we let you get up five minutes early.
You were very pleased about it.
You were very pleased about it.
You nutter.
2. Boy9's music taste is excellent
It's very similar to mine and that's no accident <Is smug>.
However.
I know what you're thinking. I know. I know. It's not my fault, I was born like this.
One day Boy9 will develop his own music tastes and likes. It will be horrible.
But honestly I want him to. I want to hear what he loves.
Because one day when he will play me something I don't know. Something I haven't heard before, with a smile on his face, the beat bouncing his feet, the lyrics soaring in his mind, one day he'll look at me and say...
BoyTeen: '*What ya fink old man Dad? Rikkin beats snaz?' (* a guess at TeenTalk)
I have no idea what you just said?
BoyTeen: 'It's from Bieber's seventh Greatest Hits album, ya snaz?'
7th? <Falls to knees>
You Maniacs! You blew it up brought his albums!
Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!
<Weeps>
And I'll listen to what he has to play me.
He'll know how important this moment is. I'll know too.
He'll know that it will be his first big chance to stake his claim in my estimation as someone with music taste.
He'll want my approval. He'll want to know that his Dad likes what he is listening to. Even if his Dad doesn't quite get it.
He'll want my thumbs up. It will be a big moment.
I'll let you know how it goes...
You're joking right? This is shiiiiiit isn't good...
BoyTeen: 'Oh wait... Wrong track!'
Oh thank bacon butties! <Wipes brow> Phew!
What was that rubbish? It was terrible!!! Utter urghghhh!!! Was it Westlife?
BoyTeen: 'It says it was a band called Thunderpants?'
<Starts leaving> Never, EVER, EVER, heard of them... <Starts whistling>
BoyTeen: 'Hey... Weren't you in a band called that?
No <Runs>
Not me, Obv(!).
Boy9 played my Mum at draughts. Over and over it was hilarious.
Having raised four boys herself, Mums competitive edge took over and it became quite the battle. They both fought hard and a clear victor emerged.
However I am too much of gentleman to tell or reveal to all and sundry a ladies losses like that. No no.
I will never tell.
4. Boy9 still sits with the remote in his mouth as he watches tele
I have told him to stop thirteen trillion times.
5. Boy9 has become big
The manure worked.
Sometime in the last five months a giant snuck into our house, at night, and pulled on Boy9's arms and legs. Pulled and pulled until they stretched. As Boy9 now seems to be part-spider part-boy. SpiderBoy!
Also Boy9 has become too heavy to carry upstairs by his ankles.
Which Mrs. Amazing never approved of anyway (wise woman). But Boy9 loved it for some mad reason. If I tried it now it would break me. That's a hard angle to carry a person.
And I doubt your ankles could take your own weight now. You big old sack of potatoes, you.
I can still carry you like a sack of potatoes.
(Mrs. Amazing: ‘Go on… Hit it with a paper…’
Sure
Boy9: ‘OW’
Mrs. Amazing: ‘Huh? A talking spider… Hit again...’
… Sure…
Boy9: ‘OW!’)
6. Boy9 is the house King of scooting
Sigh. This has probably been true for a bit. Maybe years.
Sigh.
Before I would have made loads of arguments of how I can do this, that, and ker-that better than Boy9. So I would still be the fool master.
But it's not true anymore. I have only one skill I do better on the scooter now.
I have better stamina.
And that's a lame claim to fame on a train.
Fastest? Not anymore, he goes off like a bullet.
Best tricks? No chance, I don't bounce.
Most gnarly? Naa...
But stamina! Oo. Yeah. Lame.
Only one thing comes to mind as being a real benefit for having high stamina, and it's definitely not scooting. <Giggles>
Boy9 you are the King of scooters now. Well done.
<Hands over the Silver Scooting crown>
Boy9: 'This crown smells of choc?'
Shhh... <Shakes hands> Well done <Squeezes hand hard>
Boy9: <Walks off happy, but with slightly hurty hand>
Is he gone? <Checks he's gone>
OH CRAP IT! WHY WHY! CRAP IT!
Must practice more! That's it I'm practicing now! YEAH! Check this... woooahhh Ahhh... ARHGGHGGH!
<Crashes badly>
<Limps off>
7. Boy9 is a bit smelly and eww
Shocker I know.
It does seem that boys his age are all the same. A bit gross and disgusting.
Even by my low, low, low standards.
But his yukness reflects well on me. It's nice to not be the most gross in the house anymore. It's like a promotion.
For years, most scummy and smelly, has been my role and I've excelled in it. It's an unseen, and unspoken challenge of living with the opposite sex for the modern man.
Constantly getting looks of 'you're gross' and 'ewww... you're going to eat that?' isn't as easy as it looks.
I feel like the smelly and a bit eww man-torch is being passed on, from father to son...
(Queue the mood music... Press the button... No! Not that one!...)
My son, go forth and be smelly and eww!
Boy9: <Looks proud>
Pick your nose whenever you can.
Boy9: <Is already picking it>
Fart and laugh about it because it's funny and the man-way...
<Miss5 runs in and farts brilliantly>
<We all laugh>
Sorry! Good point Miss5. Fart and laugh about it because it is our family’s-way!
<High fives Miss5>
<Mrs. Amazing shakes her head in despair>
8. The emotion fairy has been and he (oh yes, he) delivered smeg loads
EmotionFairy: 'Where'd you want it?'
You mean where do you want it? We don't want it. Thank you, not today!
EmotionFairy: 'No mate. I've anger, rage, sadness, guilt, jealousy, apathy, greed, rudeness and super-argumentative for a Boy9’
EmotionFairy: 'It’s the summer special!'
<Picks up fairy by collar> We. Don't. Want. It!
[Beep Beep Beep...]
EmotionFairyTruckDriver: 'Mind your backs' <Dumps all emotions from truck on floor>
EmotionFairy: <Grins> 'Too late... Sign here!'
Boy9: 'Oh brilliant!!! Thanks Dad' <Dives into emotions>
[A millisecond passes]
Boy9: 'IHATEYOU!' <Storms off>
EmotionFairy: 'See you next week'
What? NO! We don't want any more! Fur cough!!!
I hear the emotion fairy keeps on delivering.
Weekly. For the next nine years. yay.
Good luck Boy9. Just remember we love you even when Mrs. Amazing is holding me back, and then changes her mind, and then I have to hold her back.
9. Boy9 still scares the crap out of me
I am getting older. At some point healthwise. This has to stop.
Especially as Boy9 is now nine. Nine means his hiding is good. He now has stealth and planning to use. Gone are the days of seeing feet hiding sticking out from under a curtain. Unless it's a decoy.
Now you lie in wait for me… Armed (with a Nerf gun)...
(Photo taken a long time ago in a galaxy far, far our first house)
(N.B. Boy9 isn’t called Bjorn, he’s called Wombat Fury! YEAH!)
I can hardly remember life before Boy9 rocked up.
I think I slept more. Drank more. Ate less chocolate (lie). You were so cute and tiny, and sweet, and lovable, you completely changed Team Parents (yay!) lives. Thank you.
We've had SO much fun with you already.
We can't wait for more.
Sadly though I think, at present, we are the furthest apart we have ever been.
I don't like it and I am trying to fix it. But I think it's a bit you growing up.
A bit I've other monkeys children to train help grow.
I love you Boy9, my big-little boy, more than R2-D2 Optimus Prime. You rock.
Best buds forever despite how flipping annoying you can be at the moment!
X
(P.S. Boy9 don't mention the best buds thing in front of Miss5 or BabyBoy2 or Mrs. Amazing or the Cat I will deny it. Especially the Cat Mrs. Amazing).