Normally when I see Boy8 has his partner in crime with him, Miss11.
But somehow the planets aligned, the moon had skipped and danced its lily white butt into the right place, and the rarest of rare events happened.
It was just Boy8 and I, for a whole week of the summer.
It must be magic!!! Miss11 is away at Guide camp.
To be fair TeenBoy15 was actually there the whole week too. But he was very, very, very busy doing all those teen things he needs to be doing. Teening as it were.
TeenBoy15: <Appears, looking bored>
TeenBoy15! It's good to see you! What have you been up to?
Teen: 'Stuff'
Great I will wring your little neck, wonderful to hear, I love our little chats! Are you staying for food?
TeenBoy15: 'no'
Oh... You sure <Gestures to TeenBoy15's utterly favourite foods all laid out on the table>
TeenBoy15: <Silence continuing to mean no thanks Dad me old mucker (well that's what I choose to hear anyways)>
Are you going out? Where to? And when are you getting back?
TeenBoy15: 'Late, friend X's house. Just came home to change'
TeenBoy15: <Heads off to change>
Oh... I thought maybe we could... <Realises he's gone>
<Milliseconds later, TeenBoy15 appears in very similar outfit>
TeenBoy15: 'I'll text you if anything changes'
OK cool! Hey, have a look at this... <Realises he's gone>
<Put's DBZ hat most awesome thing in the universe back in it's box>
... <Sighs>
I’ve a plan to make fruit picking easier!!!
<Is knocked out by first coconut>
So whilst TeenBoy15 was technically there, it’s mainly to make walk through cameos. Joygasm.
However: silver lining. It's just me and Boy8 to play for 5 solid days!
I've no work, he's no school. There's so much we can do it's almost crippling. Not much money though, so I will have to be more creative than money-handing-out-ery.
Which I can do. I BELIEVEEEEEE!!
So pre-Boy8 arriving I make a list of all the stuff locally me and Boy8 can go do.
Then I remove everything from that list that costs above 4p too much.
Second, I add to the list everything we can do at home that Boy8 likes and doesn't annoy me too much.
It's nothing fancy, there's 'Have a bundle' in there, watch more Clone Wars, play board games, convince Boy8 to help me in the garden. Go through Boy8's bedroom and make him try on everything that seems to be age 0-4, see if it still fits...
Boy8: Ow ow owwwWwww
You're fine
Boy8: <Right in my face> OWWWW
Is it too tight? <Innocently>
Boy8: It says age 2, I'm 8!
Must've shrunk <Throws top into charity pile>
Now try this... <Holds up age 3 trousers>
So fully armed with lots of plans, you'd think I'd be happy, confident, and ready for our week!
I bloody wasn't, I panicked. I panicked for about three days, worrying I hadn’t got any huge amazing plans for him. Social media was like a dagger in my heart every time I looked at, everyone heading off somewhere exciting and exotic. And then there was me, with some (albeit excellent) board games to offer.
So just before Boy8 arrived I re-panicked and organised for his mates to come over to play via smoke signals from the roof.
Then Boy8 arrived and for the hour before his mates arrived we both ran about the house tidying. Music blaring away (Muse). Although I'm pretty sure only one of us was tidying, the other was just dancing and running about, me.
The friends arrived and they played lovely together.
Win you'd think. <Rolls eyes at you>
Except that for the entire time they were there, I wasn't needed.
Well I did have to wade in once to give some safety advice on how to play with my lightsabers and how not to break them. But that was it.
He's all big 8 now and very perfectly capable of playing with his mates without me, thank you very much.
<Wimpers>
I sat and watched, or cooked (chocolate fudge), or painted models, played guitar, sang and danced, or made them food. Pretty much I kept myself busy, on the sidelines, the water boy if you will, the 12th man, the goalie sub.
Which I found annoying, as wanted to spend time with Boy8, and I had put myself there! And nobody puts Daddy in the corner.
Boy8: Who ate all the chocolate in the chocolate cupboard?
<Looks very guilty, and is aware has chocolate around mouth, is sitting in a pile of wrappers, and Boy8 is pointing at me> Is it me?
Boy8: Yes, now go sit in the corner and think about what you have done.
<Waddles to corner>
<Thinks about what I've done and is utterly cool with it>
The friends leave, good time had by all. Blah blah blah...
And then wanting to undo my folly of sidelining myself, I go for a easy win move.
So Boy8... Fancy getting McCrap for dinner?
<Is hugged a lot>
Yes, yes, that's enough, come on let's go...
We walk to McCraps nattering away to each other. No idea what we said now, but it was lovely and he was happy, the sun was out, birds were shouting at each other in the trees, and we just meandered along. No rush. Walking anywhere with any of them is lovely as we just natter. I cannot recommend it enough.
It's not until we are sitting and he is opening his McCrap Kids meal and getting the toy out and showing me his for now Pokemon cards, that I realise how happy this is making him.
True, I am not happy I've spent any money, and true we're in McCrap not McHealthy, or even McWholesome. But he's so happy, he's out having his favourite treat with his Daddy and I've got nothing but time for him. And he knows it.
And I know it. And he knows that I know he knows it.
Boy8: <Gives me a look>
What?
Boy8: You don’t think we took too many balloons do you?
The sign said help yourself! I give those children one to share! It's fine!
Boy8: <Gives me another look>
As we walk back, McBalloon in tow, we spot blackberries in a hedge near the house so I suggest we stop and pick them for a crumble. Boy8 is keen, surprisingly and dashes home to get a plastic tub.
He brings back one the size of a middle-aged walrus. He's clearly optimistic about how many berries are actually here. Still, it doesn't matter.
We pick, most disappear into the voluminous plastic container, some go into Boy8. I refrain due to a well justified seed in the teeth phobia.
But eventually one gives a very saucy ‘Go on, eat me’ challenge, and not wanting to appear wussy to blackberry, I eat it and spend the next fifty years few hours getting flipping seeds out.
<Grumbles>
Then together (with Green Day backing music this time) we make the crumble.
I show him how to use a big knife to chop stuff. I let him measure everything. He pours everything in.
Which is a bit weird, as normally I just give him bits to do. But I realise suddenly why I am letting him do so much...
I've got the time to do it. <Chink, coin wobble-wobble sound>
We've no plans, there's nothing to get ready for, I can show him things slowly. I watch as he nearly cuts his fingers off cutting butter. And correct him until he isn’t nearly carving through his own fingers. Eventually he’s doing it well.
And I'll have time to tidy up later, so although it feels Boy8 is making a mess as he cooks on purpose, he isn't. He's just 8 and learning how to do everything for the first few times.
Bet I was this bad last week at 8 too.
Eventually we have a crumble made, we cook it, and sit to eat it watching a Clone Wars episode. It's delicious and I've soon eaten mine.
Boy8 liked the crumble, the fruit not so much. But who cares.
In the past few hours, without any real plan, or idea of what we're gonna do, me and Boy8 have spent some utterly wonderful time together and that's the thing I really, really, wanted to do! (without spending lots of wonga).
Cooked and served, for that extra touch of class,
in a lasagne dish because why the smeg not!
After putting a very happy Boy8 to bed, I have a firm word with myself…
Boy8 just needs your attention and time…
Brainzilla: Yeah ya muppet!
… He's not TeenBoy15 who just wants your money...
Brainzilla: Yeah numpty!
… Boy8 just wants your time and attention.
Brainzilla: You are such an idiot!
Oy! That’s not helping…
Brainzilla: Not trying to! <Runs, smashes into skull, has a headache>
I know giving Boy8 my time sounds obv. And I've gotta, you’ve gotta, we’ve gotta, everyone’s gotta wonder how on earth I forgot that. As it was only 7 years back I was getting this right with TeenBoy15.
I've been Dadding (real word) for the last 15 years!
I know this... but somehow forgot and let myself get all wound up for no reason.
So I face myself in the mirror, and tell myself firmly in my most grown up voice, not to be such a panicky twat next time.
X