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My son has a new hairbrush and he wanted to brush my hair tonight. And also my forehead apparently, but not sure if that was deliberate, but that hurt. He then decided he wanted to brush my hair all over my face. I wasn’t keen, as there’s a lot of hair there (I don’t have a hairdresser appointment until May 2nd and by then I might just ask them to shave all of it off, I’m so sick of it) and brushing it over my face meant I couldn’t see. But Ernie seemed insistent and said “You look like a rock star.”
I don’t know what rock stars this kid has ever seen in his life, though pretty sure he’s not aware of Kurt Cobain, who I was pretty close to (if KC had got to 50 and lost all his cool). Anyway as you can see from the photo I did look exactly like a rock star. So thanks to my son for that.
It was a really lovely family day, if you ignored the bits where the kids hit and pinched each other (though these were fewer and farther between than usual) or tortured me with hair brushes. I’d taken my boy on the morning dog walk so that my daughter could do her first ever bit of proper homework (the prospect of which had been stressing her out `ll weekend). Both the kids are chatty and fun now- yesterday my daughter had said “Did you know daddy, nearly everything had paint on?" and then taken at least five minutes to list everything that had paint on it and to rebuff some of my suggestions of things that didn’t have paint on by saying “nearly everything” or by saying that it would have paint on if someone spilled paint on it. To be fair, I’ve done worse routines for money.
We were looking for hares, but there were none today and so he speculated on where the hares might be and where they might be sleeping. I told him that they’d be in burrows (but to be honest I’m not entirely sure whether hares are the same as rabbits in that regard or if they have their own arrangements) but my son was not having that, espousing his own nonsensical ideas that I won’t bore you with. What an idiot! I find it charming that kids think they might be telling you something new or that they know as much about the world as you do. Like I’d have got to 53 not knowing about what things had paint on or where hares probably lived. It won’t be too long before their brains are full enough and mine has decayed enough that they will be the intelligence masters, but fucking Hell kids. Don’t think you can tell me about hares and paint. Hares don’t have paint on them, for example. When it comes down to it, hardly anything does,
We went to the swimming pool for the first time in however long it’s been and the kids were bold and we had a lot of fun. My son got in a locker and I wondered what would happen if I locked him in there and left. Someone would get him out eventually. I didn’t want to do it. I just wondered what would happen if I did. And how long it would take for him to forgive me. He was actually being quite well behaved, so it would have been OTT to imprison him.
Then we had lunch in the garden in the sunshine. It was spaghetti bolognaise and the kids managed to get it all over their faces. I hardly got any sauce on myself. So who is best?
