A cramped hatchback, a screaming child, a lay-by, and a soiled nappy.
I’m sure there are plenty of parents that have been in this wonderful situation, on possibly more than one occasion before. And I’m willing to wager a jumbo size bag of nappies, and a vat of barrier cream, that there will be many more off-road wipes needed. If not by me, then by plenty of other first time parents.
Add to this delightful chore, heavy precipitation, a child that refuses to get in his car seat, and the fact that I’m only two minutes from my nice warm, dry home, you can begin to understand my predicament.
The trip to the park was, as usual, a run-of-the-mill affair. Swings, roundabout, and slide, with the added bonus of muddy puddles from a previous downpour. Cue another deluge, followed by a very slow puddle-to-puddle walk back to the car, and a wrestle to get my precious son back in his car seat, which results in a blow to the back of the bonce for yours truly on the door frame.
The journey home is at most, even with rush hour traffic, about six minutes. Two minutes in and my beautiful bambino starts issuing forth the most blood curdling screams I have ever heard, (well, except that time he…but that’s another story). Sam Raimi would’ve been proud to include it in ‘Evil Dead’. It was THAT good! Suddenly my throttle foot became extremely heavy as I headed for the next available lay-by.
Just for good measure we have another bit of cranium/car interaction, as I squeeze the young un out of his straps and out of his seat to attend to his seat.
It’s fair to say that at this point, with a couple of knocks to the old noggin in the bag, and clothes wringing wet, I’m ready to give my boy a run for his money in the ‘scream for a zombie movie’ competition. But no, here I am with a job at hand, (pun intended), a smile on my face, and a soothing tune for my little cherub. ‘Calm as Hindu cows’, as one of my favourite authors once wrote. Because the last thing I need to do is escalate the situation, and make that sweet little monster feel any worse than he already is.
Nappy changed, followed by a play in the back of the car for ten minutes, so that I can get him strapped in and get him home for some dinner, and a cuddle as he watches Winnie the Poo/climb all over me/punch me/poke me in the eyes/kick me in the ‘Unmentionables’ (isn’t that the title of the Stallone movies?)
I bloody loves him! And when that sweet head of hair, hits the pillow and he dreams of playing, with his lovely “babbits”. You’ll find me running around a ‘Call of Duty’ map, with nothing but a blade and a smile that puts Heath Ledger’s joker to shame, slicing and dicing EVERYTHING in my path.
“Why so SERIOUS?”
Feedback always welcomed.
Till next time, be dobby, smeck grimly, and skvat jeezny by the sharries droogs!
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