There are more questions than answers… though not if you include wrong answers.
I have written another joke. I mean barely. But just about. That’s three this year. I am on fire.
Took my daughter to football this morning. She was in good spirits, but chasing another boy round the room before it started she tripped on a mat and landed face first on the floor. Luckily she was OK, but it’s one of the first times that her exuberance has led to pain. But she didn’t cry for long and though it took her a little while to focus back in on the lesson she did so. When I put her to bed tonight I said “Well done at the football today. I know you hurt yourself, but you were very brave.” And she nodded as if she both understood and agreed. I am loving these new developments and her increasing cognition. A lot of the time we’re just messing around or she’s annoyed because she really prefers to be with her mum (and I can’t blame her) but for the last half hour today we had a good serious connection. There was loads of dumbass stuff and splashing around in the bath and doing animal noises. But there was something else too. It’s really the best and it just keeps getting better. We’d been through something together today, but we’d come through it. And Phoebe is way ahead of me. I was a right cowardly cry baby.
But better than all of that is that she’s really started to find farts funny. So there’s still a bit of me in her. And the problem is that as often as not it’s one of my farts. I can carry on for a while to teach her about humour. But there will come a point where I have to teach her, by lying example, that farting is not socially acceptable. But however brave she is, she’s going to need to find bodily functions amusing to have any quality of life. She’s shaping up to be the best person ever. That’s an objective assessment.
Also once she’d been put down to sleep, before she’d gone to sleep, but when no one was in the room (we could hear her on the monitor but she didn’t know that) she started doing pretend snoring, like she was playing at being asleep or trying to trick someone into thinking she was asleep. Man it made me laugh. Having kids is stupid and hard and destroys the essence of who you are, but man it’s worth it for the laughs.
I have a week where I can get some work done and I need it, because there’s loads to do on AIOTM and loads to do on Relativity and one of my TV scripts needs a third draft but seems to be crawling towards the possibility of something happening. If it wasn’t for all the actual work involved this would be very exciting, but it’s a little bit terrifying. But hey, it seems I am getting another bite at the cherry, having squandered a few chances. Let’s try not to fuck it up this time. Maybe the sixth decade is going to be the good one. I suppose the fifth decade has had its moments.
Here’s a nice write-up about the Headmaster’s Son from the always readable Anglonerd