Ten! Crikey...

Crikey.

Boy9 has metaphorized into Boy10. The mess was terrible.

It feels like a big milestone.

I say again crikey. When did all that fly by?

Of course it's great for Boy10.

He's ten now. Happy double figure days.

The world is his oyster, all that kind of thing...

Boy10: 'Can I drive the car now?'

Nope.

Boy10: 'Can I stay up later?'

Hmmm.... Nope.

Boy10: 'Can I light the fire now'

You already do...

Boy10: 'Oh yeah... Can I come to the pub with you now?'

I think you know the answer I go there to avoid you lot...

Boy10: 'Well then, what can I do now I am ten? '

<Hands Boy10 some laundry and a map to the washing machine>

Enjoy!

Boy10: <Gives me a look>

It also means that I've been Dadding (real word) for a decade.

Crikey! (yes again, I must calm down).

Who'd thought I'd make it this far? Last this long. Manage not to lose them.

<Gets look from Mrs. Amazing>

And I've learnt loads as gone along too. I can change a nappy at a hundred paces in a fair wind. Doesn't matter how awkward the child, how kicky they are (Miss6). I can change it with minimal mess on me and around me.

I also offer two hair styles for long hair. Pig or pony.

And my pancake drawing is going from strength to strength.

Great skills.

(Third attempt lucky and the transfer went well…

They don’t always <Grumbles>)

If I look back at photos of myself.

Before Boy10 rocked into our world and changed us from Team Young and No ties (woohoo!) to Team Parents (yay!).

I don't really recognise the handsome young devil staring back at me. Oh wait that isn't me...

Oh right... that's me... I'm young at least.

I didn't look tired out either. My now constant panda eyes aren't there.

I'm pretty trim too. Where did that young man, with hair to spare, go?

<Looks in mirror>

<Weeps>

<Pulls a face and then licks the mirror>

<Giggles>

It has been amazing though.

Sure there's loads I have had to give up. Lots of sleepless nights. Frustration like you wouldn't believe.

But really if it's out on the scales it's not even close. I’d do it again.

It's been amazing...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Yes?'

No not you... I was saying how amazing it's been watching Boy10 grow up...

Hang on...

Is that my chocolate you're eating?

Mrs. Amazing: <Runs>

Right enough about me.

Here's where I could write a lovely list of all of Boy10's greatest and best features. But that would the vomit police would arrive, rough everyone up and it would be a nightmare.

And no one wants that.

Instead let’s (yes let us) go with the stuff you probably couldn’t guess...

1. Boy10 now sleeps in (Wooohoo!)

Except obv. on his birthday. That day still is a 6:30er, which is fine as the other two herbert's have been up for ages by then.

But mostly Team Parents (yay!) no longer have to fight Boy10 back to bed because he is up too early.

No. Now we have to wake the little sleeping bear. A grumpy bear to boot. That doesn't want to get up, and definitely doesn't want to start getting ready for school.

We have mixed success.

For my part I opt for bouncing him on his bed as hard as I can until he starts giggling.

I doubt I'll be able to get away with this for much longer, but whilst I can...

Here here hold this...

<Puts cup of water in Boy10's hands>

<Bounces the bed a lot>

<Boy10 gets wet>

<Nearly dies laughing>

<Gets a look from Boy10>

<Runs>

2. Boy10 has lost BabyBoy3's trust

Which is a bit sad. But it's true and the only person Boy10 can blame is himself.

He's tricked, stolen, poked, prodded, pinched or ridden off with something of BabyBoy3's too many times.

And BabyBoy3 has gotten wise to him...

BabyBoy3: 'NO! Boy10! Go WAY!'

Boy10: 'I just want to see...'

BabyBoy3: 'NO! GOWAY!'

I know Boy10 doesn't like it either, so hopefully he'll turn it around pretty quick.

<Crosses fingers>

3. If there was a speed Lego construction challenge

Boy10 would win it. He's very good a building Lego models now. He gets out pots to put the bits in, just like his Dad showed him, and then he's off. Nothing can interrupt until he has finished. Well not without a big fight.

Team Parent (yay!) obv. are very proud, but do wish that sometimes he wouldn't go quite so quick with the more pricey Lego we rarely get him.

4. Will argue for twenty minutes for the sake of two minutes more

It's funny and annoying all at the same time. The principal matters to him. Matters a lot.

If Boy10 feels he is getting short changed, even by a few minutes, you better settle in for a good long 'discussion' full of drama and wildly baffling counter arguments.

5. Boy10 is getting better with his emotions

That truck load of emotions that bastard the EmotionFairy delivered last year.

Well to Boy10's credit he is definitely starting to master then all. He breathes when he is cross. He understands what he has done and why it hurt others (Miss6) and he genuinely seems sorry.

Let’s hope no more emotions turn up...

EmotionFairy: 'Hello again!'

NO! GOWAY! GOWAY!

EmotionFairy: 'Hey hey, just doing my job. I've a year-ten delivery here, guile, flattery, sneaking, wet-yourself-funny... Where do you want them?'

<Describes a place>

EmotionFairy: 'There's no need to be rude... Hank! Just drop 'em now...' <Grumbles off>

NOOOOOO!!! <Gets covered in emotions>

<Weep and laughs and feels serene about it>

(Found this in his room the other day…

That’s hella cool!!!

(Despite the fire risk))

6. Boy10 has started beating me at a few games

And I am not letting him win. He is winning.

And proper games too. Grown up games. And old ones, from my childhood, which he loves.

Even with those he is <Gulps> beating me through his own cunning and guile.

I am so proud and furious.

Boy10 isn’t the kindest winner though...

Boy10: ‘I won!’

wooo… <Waves little flag> That’s great mate, well done…

Boy10: ‘Again!’

Uh-huh… Well done…

Boy10: ‘I must be the best at this game, coz you never win!’

…

Have I ever told you about being a gracious winner?

Boy10: ‘YEP! Everytime I win!’

Boy10: <Does winning dance, which has at least ten dabs in it>

<Smiles but internalises anger>

I’ve no idea where he gets behaviour from.

<Whistles off>

7. Boy10 still picks his nose and eats it

I have no problem with nose picking. I would rather not watch it to be honest.

But fingers are exactly the right size for digging into nostrils. And well it’s kind of fun at the same time.

But eating it after? <Vomits onto keyboard>

It really makes cringe, and want to run away, or shove that finger even further up that nose.

Urghghgh…

I’m pretty sure Boy10 knows this.

I’m pretty sure Boy10 does it just to bug me.

I’m pretty sure Boy10 does it as much as possible, to bug me.

Bless ‘im.

8. Boy10 can be the greatest big brother

It was true last year, and it’s still true.

Yes he does wind BabyBoy3 and Miss6 right up sometimes, until there is tears, and screaming and kicking.

And yes that drive me a little mad, as I have to do my ‘Judgment of Solomon’ act, and then smash the sofa in half. Which is costly.

But mostly.

Boy10 is the sweetest big brother both BabyBoy3 and Miss6 could ever want for.

He shares his toys, his time, and he loves them fiercely.

Thank you Boy10 for that. Team Parent (yay!) love that about you.

It’s funny.

Because Boy10 was the start of my Dadding (still real word) and there is a real chance he may end it (me) one day. Probably with me asking to use his knife and fork to eat. Or not pick his nose.

But it is funny to think all that fun and life shifting madness came from one little person.

That just keeps on growing.

(Look at him all grown up and stuff…

Learning stuff in a museum…

We didn’t even have to offer him stickers!

...

<Hands out stickers to Miss6 and BabyBoy3>)

Last year I wrote.

That me and Boy9 were the furthest apart I thought we had ever been.

Emotionally Obv. He lives in my house.

I’m really glad to say (I think) I’ve managed to turn that around and feel our Dad and son bond is alive and kicking once again.

We’ve had a million more laughs this year already.

It was me. I know.

<Will long have regrets about it>

<And will punish self far greater than anyone else can>

Back to being best buds.

(which is lucky as Mrs. Amazing just isn’t into scooting, playing Crick-Ball, watching cartoons, eating sweets until we barf, throwing stuff as high as possible, dead arms fights, flicking for fun, seeing how crashy we can crash cars, rocking out to very loud sensibly volumned music, laughing about farts, bundling, and Minecraft Obv.)

(I never stood a chance

<Is pulled in and consumed by cuteness>)

X

Damn It Monday...

I am not a Monday fan.

There has never really been a point in my life where I have relished a Monday.

School. Job. It's never been good.

Holidays don’t start on Mondays, parties end on Mondays. Good ones.

Essentially, and from a purely technical point of view, Mondays suck.

Except that is.

For one hour, between 7:30am and 8:30am every Monday morning.

And why I hear you cry? Why?

Because at 7:30am Mrs. Amazing, Boy10 and BabyBoy3 all leave for the day leaving just me and Miss6.

Alone. With an hour before we need to leave for school.

That’s why.

We normally play games.

Board games. Big, BabyBoy3 isn’t allowed to play because he break everything or eats the pieces, board games. The more grown up ones.

And Miss6 hella loves it.

She generally doesn't know the rules, or how to play. She just enjoys the playing.

She normally wins too. Not quite sure how.

I'm not letting her...

Miss6: 'So what does a two (on the dice) mean?'

It mean <Sighs> that once again you have bested my warrior and stomped him into the ground... <Is not entirely happy>

Miss6: 'Do I get your treasure too?'

<Passes over treasure>

Miss6: 'All of it...'

<Passes over hidden best treasure>

Miss6: 'And what happens to you?'

I get turned into a frog.. <Sighs>

Miss6: <Big smile>

(Hair by DoingHisBestDadStudios)

And I love it too.

Yesterday we played on the Wii. Turns out Miss6 is utterly, utterly rubbish at MarioKart.

Can’t even go in a straight line. <Is appalled>

Don’t worry. The training has now started.

Anyhoo…

Me and Miss6 were totally ready for school and work.

We had waved everyone else off. We had both made a plan to be as ready as possible. So we could have more time playing, something.

Miss6 had requested Minecraft.

Which Boy10 had heard. And as he left he made me swear that we would create a new world, and not use any of his. I swore I would try to do that, but if I forgot he shouldn’t be too cross.

Boy10 did not take my little joke well, and I really was made to swear and not to mess with his levels. Fair play.

Obv. I wouldn’t unless I had revenge to do.

So there we were.

I had made sure we had done everything, ready for work and school. Bags packed. Hair done, hers not mine. Water bottle ready. Shoes on. And we got to spend some lovely time with each other.

I love it when a plan comes together.

Then I opened the front door and checked the weather.

It is summer time. But this is the UK. The weather wobbles about quite a lot. It's worth a check at least.

And I can smell if it’s going to rain (oh bacon why can’t I have any special skills that make give me power money).

I blame having to be a reluctant paperboy from age 11-16 for this skill.

I always knew the rain was coming, and was pushed out of the door anyway. And got soaked.

Because that’s the fun of delivering papers.

My weather senses say rain.

So I put on my coat. But then again as it’s the UK and my hair is departing me, I put on my sun hat too.

Miss6 asks if she needs her sun hat. Naaa. It's gonna rain.

Suntan lotion? Naa. Rain again.

I hand Miss6 a coat and off we head to school.

(<Applies factor 15K suntan lotion (tar)>

And I am happy with what I've chosen.

The rule of index finger thumb is, that Mrs. Amazing taught me I totally worked out on my own is:

If I am wearing a coat. Any children with me need a coat.

If I’ve sut lotion on, they need it on.

If my pint is nearly empty then that’s when you order a ‘local’s’ half…

To the top... <Give look>

Barsteward: 'That’s your fifth 'half' tonight... You are taking the smeg...' <Frowny face>

Barsteward: 'There wasn't even a quarter left in that pint...'

WHAT! There’s no way I’ve had five pints, I can only cope with four, on a good night!

You sir are wrong, AKA, captain Wrongo.

<Grabs pint and goes to leave>

<Falls over in heap, due to nothing>

As we walk the weather is cloudy.

So I am feeling fine about my decision. Yet everyone we pass has dressed for sun. Not like me and Miss6. We’re dressed for rain.

I drop off Miss6. Wrestle her for a hug goodbye and she's away.

The fellas I walk out of school with all have shorts on. And by now I've taken off my coat.

Bit hot. Glad I’ve got my hat.

Smeg.

As I walk to work.

The damn clouds clear. Again I say, smeg. The sun pops out and goes for the burn. It's a glorious day. One would just need a sun hat and suntan lotion on and life would be good.

I sit at work and watch the sunshine getting more sunnier and shinier from my desk.

Smegging weather.

By ten thirty I accept I've made a big mistake.

The sun is beaming away in the sky. And I am imaging poor Miss6 been forced to play outside with a blanket over head. So I excuse myself from work for a quick mission of mercy.

I leg it home and grab Miss6's hat. Miss6 has suntan lotion at school for emergencies. Like now. The lovely teachers I am sure will apply it for her.

I've just got to get the hat in and the message.

Getting into a school outside of pickup and drop off times isn't the easiest.

And I have to wait at reception for someone to buzz me in.

The lovely lady at reception greets me with a smile. But that smile starts fading as she sees I am carrying a child's hat.

I've mine on my head. It's clearly not mine...

What? <Is indignant> I like to wear two hats at a time...

<Puts on both> <Looks insane>

Double protection...

<Runs>

I explain to the lady at reception the situation.

It doesn't sound good. There is no way to make it sound good either.

I just have to suck it up and admit I've been a crapola parent.

<Hangs head>

(Dishonor! Dishonor on me,

dishonor on my cow,

dishonor on my whole family!)

I fess up...

Morning… er… please can you give this hat to Miss6 as I forget to give to her.

Yes, yes, I am a terrible father.

… er… I also neglected to plaster her with suntan lotion...

...Yes. Yes she is likely to burning like bacon in a jet engine...

<Would like ground to swallow me up>

… So please... <Is getting a look of disgust>....

... Please can someone apply some suntan lotion to her...

[You could hear a pin drop]

...

Thanks...

<Leaves like a mouse that struggles to look after their children>

Damn you Monday.

X