Or should that be wanderers?
The head-count is back at two for this gaff, and boy does that feel good.
Our respective, break, break-together, break sequence has done us both the world of good.
I enjoyed the time on my own, apart from maybe one night, but at least that night got me thinking, and I may have perversely ending up doing the right thing on it, which was not a lot.
My child has had a wonderful time and has enjoyed getting up to all sorts of things, which I’ve had to listen to reports of from him, backed up by my parents’ versions.
Sounds like he’s behaved pretty well too, although I do not expect his behaviour to now be at its best, it never is after breaks away - irrespective of who is in control – great timing for our first visit from our new health visitor tomorrow.
Back to my main point, Max’s return was just like a movie scene.
A National Lampoons’ movie scene that is!
I met with him and my parents at a nearby caravan sales site, which was virtually on their route to mine.
My folks are looking at a new caravan for next season, and wanted my input – more fool them – and they were in murdering-multiple-birds-with-one-brick mode.
This place was quite vast, as it has to be to house a good few touring vans, campers and statics, and I arrived in front of them, my parents that is, not the holiday homes.
They’d given me their shortlist beforehand so I went and had a quick look at the models they are deliberating over before they arrived.
I then decided to find the toilet, as I could do with it, and I knew junior would need to go after a decent car journey.
On my way I caught sight of my mini-colossus entering the giant hanger type building that showcased all the towing caravans.
He quickly caught my gaze too.
Then with beautiful symmetry we picked up speed and made for each other with our arms open wide.
It was a real slo-mo moment, without slo-mo and the obligatory power balled, though I do think I heard a call for ‘Keith’ to come to reception, so we didn’t do it against a backdrop of total silence.
To avoid a nasty collision, I picked him off the ground, instantly reminding myself that he now weighs a tonne, kissed him and squeezed as hard as I could, well not that hard, but rib cage compressing all the same.
He reciprocated, and then it started.
“We’ve been bowling daddy,” he joyfully informed me.
“I won, I had to use an orange ball, nanny had a green and granddad, granddad had a RED one!” He exclaimed.
And it didn’t stop much before he passed out for bed.
He was like a talking bottle of pop.
And I was like a stuck record.
‘Oh, I have missed you’
Things are returning back to normal now, well, our normal anyway.
And nursery resumes next week, so that really will be a dose of normality, not that normality is a bad thing.
I’m actually looking forward to it.
The break(s) must have really worked.
Thursday, 28 August 2008
Or should that be wanderers?