Distracted Dad
Richard Hearn tries to find the right words
It’s feeding time with Youngest™, AKA sword fighting a seven month old. That sounds dangerous and competitive but, in fact, it’s necessary and involves plastic spoons.
You need a minimum of two spoons, as he’ll always try and grab them. This is not really in his interest which I have tried to explain, but rational arguments are not his strongest suit. He just looks extremely surprised at everything I’m saying. He will twirl the spoon round like a baton, try and stick one end in his mouth, but instead poke himself in the forehead, or comb his hair with it. All the while his mouth is opening and closing like a boggle-eyed fish. Hence give him one spoon and feed him with t‘other. 20 minutes spent parrying pureed parsnip, the cut and thrust of carrot or turnip; he’s messier at eating than I am.
“He will twirl the spoon round like a baton, try and stick one end in his mouth, but instead poke himself in the forehead”
We’re all learning in the Distracted Dad household. The Boy is learning to read, to write and to spell, which he finds a constant source of enjoyment and surprise. “Do you know,” he might say, “I have just seen [pause for effect] the letter ‘T’!”. He says it like I might say “I’ve just seen Whitney Houston on Blatchington Road!” ( I have no idea why I chose Whitney Houston for that sentence.)
As well as making his way through short words, his own name, and his brother’s name (he could play his Joker on those), he also loves calculating the number of letters in a word. Elephant (eight letters). Lighthouse (10).
So what are us parents learning? My wife is learning that for Spurs every match is a must-win game and the ultimate prize is something called ‘Fourth Place.’ By the time you read this, she will know whether this particular dream has been realised/shattered. I will have told her.
I myself, in a desperate attempt to switch off, have been learning how to do cryptic crosswords. I’ve not actually got much better at them yet, but have started to recognise ‘indicators’ and ‘definitions’. (This also gets me ready for retirement. I picture myself with the paper folded over on the crossword page, in a comfortable chair, drifting in and out of sleep.)
It does help me switch off, but returning to the outside world I hear everything as if it’s a clue. The Boy’s diction doesn’t help. When he asks: “Do babies like cheese in real life?” I’m picturing (3,5,4) on the end of it.
Of course, The Boy would be good at crosswords, with his ability to tell you how many letters at 20 paces. In the future we can work as a team, as long as Youngest™ doesn’t keep grabbing our biros.
