Phew, I don't know where that week went either. Well I do, it was full of my car breaking down and needing expensive repairs to the engine's cooling system, of Climber going off to School Camp for two nights (he came home exhausted having enjoyed the activities but not the lack of sleep) and of my excitement at receiving glowing reports from the Spicks and Specks Show as they smashed their opening week at the Hordern Pavilion in Sydney.
But the car is mostly repaired, and back, the boy is back and our life is now back to normal. That's if you don't count the excitement of Fixit firing up his old Galaxy Invader 1000 handheld game for his sons to see. (Periodically, Fixit brings home some treasure from his boyhood that has been stored at his parents' house in their meticulously organised cupboards. I sincerely hope my children are not hoping to do the same when they are in their 40s, I do not have or ever expect to have meticulously organised cupboards.)
Climber was very keen to have a go, and while he waited (patiently) for Fixit to relinquish his turn, he asked about what it was. I said, thinking I was being pretty funny, It's a DS! meaning those little hand-held games that kids nowadays all play with, and which I was always too mean to let our kids have because of their basically antisocial nature ie kids stop playing with each other when the DSs come out and turn into screen zombies. Anyway, I was soon put to rights because Fixit said it's a Single Screen, it can't be a DS. Turns out DS means Double Screen (because they fold up): I did NOT know that!
I wandered off then only to be followed by Mister Fixit who wanted me to admire the pristine condition of the Galaxy Invader 1000, which extended to the box it came in. Look, he said, showing me the box, only a tiny rip in it! Pretty impressive huh? Pretty good for a kid? This made me shake my head at him and his obsessive orderliness and the way he nags the kids to be careful! with their toys, so I said Why don't you go off and write a list or something?
Cherub, in the corner building his new lego, (a belated birthday present from my Dad), missed the note of sarcasm and derision in my tone and clearly thought this was an eminently reasonable suggestion. When Fixit retorted that he would write a list, of all the silly faces I pull at him, Cherub piped up You could make a list of all your toys Daddy. At which point I laughed, and Fixit walked off shaking his head at us.
slow stitching reflections
9 hours ago