The Big Questions: What Is Love?

Something tells me a big question is coming.

Call it Daduition (real word), extrapolation of statistical bibbidy bobs (numbers), or simple guesswork. Call it what you will. It's guesswork. It's coming.

Boy8 is starting to question the world around him and at some point, he's going to turn to the wisest man he knows yoda, his father, and get all up in my grill start asking me stuff.

I will be required to dispense advice, sageness and wiseyness.

Not my classic strengths to be honest.

And I'll know that my answers may well colour his thoughts and life for the next forty thousand years, and a day.

So there's a bit of pressure there too.

(Is this anyone’s? Anyone own this question mark?... Last chance?... Yoink!)

Planning and rehearsing what I am going to say, can only help (?!).

Maybe. At the very least, it will let me get my little jokes out now, which is always a good idea for me. Before interviews. Funerals. Weddings, airport customs, meeting teachers, spouses, and any large group of losers people.

I do need to be prepared.

Boy8 might ask what's the point of life? Why do we die? Is every star an entire galaxy just waiting to be discovered? Who actually buys Bieber music? Why are we (humans) so crappy to each other, and the planet? Who cares if Han shot first, he’s not dead?

The big stuff.

He might ask me what is love?

And it will definitely may go like this but cooler and I’ll be dressed as Admiral Ackbar...

Boy8: 'Dad?'

WHAT! I told you to knock! <Quickly hides LOTR figures>

Yes, O son of mine?

Boy8: 'Are you busy?'

It depends mostly on what you want?

Not for you matey bob! What’s the problem?

Boy8: 'What is love?’

Expensive Dangerous

It's why you get to sleep inside the house sometimes

It is the main cause of babies

Love? Well... <Leans back and pulls out pipe>

<Puffs and bubbles come out> ...

Some say love is the greatest thing in the world and it is what makes life, worth, living

It can lift your soul to the very stars! And make your tummy all squishy

Boy8: 'Oooo'

Indeed <Nods>

Some say it's a mere short term chemical imbalance and not to put too much stock in it

Boy8: 'Oh'

But opinions differ

Boy8: 'What do you think it is?'

<Thinks hard> <Oo e, oo ah ah, zing zang walla bing bang>

Hmmm… It’s hard to explain without an example… best take a seat

Boy8: <Senses an excessively long answer> 'Actually, it’s fine, I don’t mind not knowing!'

Sit <Is serious>

Boy8: ‘Damn it, damn it’

<Poses with pipe before starting> <More bubbles>

Love is putting yourself to bed early, despite being home only a few hours. Your cold is exhausting and work has been hard this week. But you know you need to grab every single bit of sleep you can for the coming night

Boy8: 'BabyBoy1 not sleeping?'

No. Your mother. Mrs. Amazing, has gone out drinking chatting

And I know that about midnight, my lovely, but quite drunk wife, will stagger into the bedroom

stinking of wine… and hiccuping!

Boy8: '... and that's love?'

No.. Where was I...

... Stinking of wine, hiccuping, and having had lots of fun. Which is great, I am happy she had fun. 

But it means I get to listen to a drunken lady, not make much sense at all, as she tells me the highs and lows of her entire evening in depth

Boy8: <Sucks air in through teeth>

And I do all that, without falling back to sleep, or at least managing to hide it well enough, whilst remembering to ask relevant questions.

Boy8: '... and that's love?'

Does it sound like it?

Boy8: 'Not really...'

Then stop interrupting... <Shakes fist>

Knowing that it’s pretty likely that all that wine and expensive food she’s eaten, is going to escape later on

Boy8: 'Ewww'

<Nods> Pukesville is coming. It’s the hiccups. They are the sign

And worse, because it’s so late in the evening and everything is quiet I will have to listen

Boy8: '... OK I think I get what you're saying'

REALLY?

Boy8: '... no....’

When I'm done! SHESH!

…

…

What was I saying?

Boy8: 'Pukesville’

Right...

Hopefully there’s little mess to tidy up, or if there is, it doesn't take long, because by now your mother's body heat has totally gone, and she needs me warm her when she recovers. Like a big hot water bottle.

And then I try to get back to sleep, with the Queen of the Snores right next to me, knowing that it doesn't matter how exhausted I am from work, how much I put into family life, how much time I spend with you monkeys, how much of myself I give out, with a cold…

I know that tomorrow morning when Miss5, and then you, and then BabyBoy1, and then Miss5 again, wake us both up, too damn early

Boy8: 'You swore!’

Cursed. It’s not the same

Boy8: 'Damn it!’

Don't blaspheme... Anyway... Shhh...

When we are awoken too early, Mrs. Amazing will roll over and look into my eyes...

Knowing all that I do for her... All that I do for you children, the family... All I am as a Dad, and a man... Mrs. Amazing will look deep into me eyes and say

“I feel like crap, you have to take the kids”

Then she’ll clearly fall asleep again, snoring

Boy8: <Looks confused> ‘What? And that’s love?’

Boy8: ‘That sounds rubbish!’

It’s not that bad. <Shrugs> We take turns really…

But no that's not love, ya muppet, that's being a parent and a husband

Boy8: ‘Then what the Ben 10 is love then?’

You really want to know?

Boy8: ‘YES!’

Well... you then gather all the kids up, feed them a sensible breakfast, not too much cake, play lovely games with them, do their homework with them, all quietly, get them dressed and ready for the day

Basically do everything Mrs. Amazing normally does

Boy8: ‘And that's love?’

No. Love is doing every single bit of what I've just said, but then STILL remembering mid way through the morning, to stop and take up a much needed cup of tea and chocolate...

Boy8: <Is speechless> ‘...’

Which she will forget to drink… So you take another up an hour later

And that my boy... is love <Points for effect> 

Real love <Does big hands>

Boy8: ‘Ooooo’

Yeah I know, heavy huh?

Boy8: <Thinks for a bit> ‘Are you sure you've got that right?’

Yep!

Boy8: ‘You're not thinking of a butler? Instead of love?’

Nope. Love you ass

Boy8: ‘Sounds great!’ <Is sarcastic>

It is

Boy8: ‘Can’t wait!’ <Is still sarcastic>

Yeah I know… You think your gonna be eight for ever… <Starts puffing on pipe again>

Boy8: ‘So it’s nothing to do with…’ <Trails off>

<Glances at watch> <Five to MasterChef>

It’s nothing to do with what?

Boy8: ‘So you’re saying love has nothing to do with penises and vaginas then?’

<Chokes on pipe>

(A kindred soul and fellow fan of the b-pipe)