Having finally started this blog, I would like to introduce my companion through this land of sleepless nights. Lets call him my Greek.
My personal chef is at the core of his soul, Mediterranean. Everything will be done in good time; let’s make a list, no, lets make a frappe, then THINK about that list. He is the ying to my silent but frenetic yang, and yip I would be lost without him.
Regardless of his heritage his brain works like every other bloody guys. Different from a mummy’s head, which for me consists of juggling a million thoughts, fears, and actual tasks. The Greek has a completely different approach to the priorities of parenting. Songs, he’s all about the songs. Original pirate material MC spins on classic nursery rhymes. Weeding big dirty “treasures” from the garden in November. Going online in the wee small hours of the morning to buy socks, yes socks for our puppy. The list goes on.
Yesterday was no exception.
Having lost a drone with our son 3 days ago (its stuck up in the tree, outside our house), he announced he was “off to the Card Factory on a mission”. Huh. Its Papa’s birthday next week, some forward planning?! Not quite. 1 hour and £4 later, the big reveal. A helium balloon to raise into the sky, manipulate through the branches and gently, and very carefully release the drone. There it is. The difference. He thinks it’s a priority to save the drone.
I seethed silently for the rest of the afternoon. Has he got nothing else to worry about?! If ONLY I had time to saunter into town and float home with a bloody balloon! Of course when my son arrived home, Dadda was a hero amongst men. A twosome united against the elements, buoyed with helium and eternal optimism.
As I peeked out the blinds, scowling and trying not to burn the lasagne something else creeped up my spine. Jealously. Why didn’t I take a minute to think of a flotation saving device, why don’t I take a minute to stop, and enjoy the wee things. Should I blame my gender? My nationality? I’m not sure.
Still today is a new day. So, if you look up at the sky and see a drone go sailing freely by, take a wee moment and enjoy those simple things.
Of course just before I wearily limped into bed last night, there it was; Papa’s birthday card.
Christ. I love that buggar.