Distracted Dad
Richard Hearn has a perfect day – sand, flaws and all
Recently, I split this column into the negatives and positives of fatherhood. I found this strange to write, because the two get so mixed up, shunted together like two ill-fitting carriages. (Imagine the one you visit Santa on, if, like us, you see him at a railway, next to the one from Murder On The Orient Express where they found the body.)
Moving on. To illustrate, let me tell you about a day out that was close to idyllic. It was great, but had enough of those hard edges to go with the soft focus that comes with time. This felt like one of the first days when I managed to absorb imperfections and still felt the day was perfect. I just need to continue that trait…
We started with a simple picnic in the long grass, just the four of us. I took a photo that will probably define Youngest™ and The Boy’s childhood – instant nostalgia. Bright sunlight, squinting faces, sandwiches and strawberries. To feed Youngest™, he sat on me. You just need to see the state of his chair after an average mealtime to know how I looked afterwards.
“Youngest had his first experience of sand. Yes, we had to stop him sticking a handful in his mouth”
Next up, a peacock came walking past. I’m going to sound like an old The Fast Show character but peacocks are brilliant, they’re great. I tried – not for the first time – to get a decent photo with either The Boy or Youngest™ in the same frame as a peacock. “Pushchairs and Peacocks” could be the title of my autobiography. One Dad’s love of random days out. I’ll let you know when it has an ISBN number.
Then, a beautiful little trip on a canal boat under dappled sunlight was not even spoilt by being preceded by The Boy shouting at us frantically as he thought we were going to, quite literally, ‘miss the boat.’
Youngest™ had his first experience of sand. Yes, we had to stop him sticking a handful in his mouth, no doubt leading to him moaning, but it was lovely to see. We then came upon an over-sized chess set in the gardens. The Boy and another boy invented a new version of the game, not chess exactly, but moving the pieces around competitively. This went well, until the king (exactly the same size as The Boy) rocked on its heels and managed to headbutt my son. (He was fine, although we did think he was going to get a black eye.)
So, it was a great day, partly because it taught me to realise that paradise is still paradise even with provisos; that utopia can come with amendments. Then, later in the week, The Boy’s leg gets a rash that starts to blister. It turns out he’s brushed up against a poisonous plant…
Are you an illustrator in search of exposure? We’re looking for an up-and-coming talent to illustrate this column in exchange for having your work seen by 100,000 readers a week. GSOH essential, ability to draw Darth Vader, Lego and pirates advantageous. Email bella@thelatest.co.uk
