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I know all about what it’s like to come second when you are clearly the best. It hurts. And you never get over it. The system is rigged against geniuses. Call me, Donald.
We took the childcare in shifts this morning so we could both do a run (I felt a million times fitter already and ran the 6k steadily but with comfort). When my wife was out I gave the kids a snack of cut up carrots and I got myself a couple of whole carrots for a healthy snack too. My son grabbed one of my carrots and started making it dance around and talk. He has never even seen Twitch of Fun, but clearly some things are innate. He hasn’t yet realised that a carrot looks exactly like a penis so didn’t use it to point up innuendo. But still incredible he’s got to this stage at only 3, a full half century quicker than me. Imagine if I had started work on Cocky Carrot at the age of 3, how far it would have developed by now.
To be fair it would probably be the same.
I did start with Donkey at about that age. And look how sophisticated that has become. Tune in to Twitch of Fun on Thursday, as Donkey has a big surprise in store for him.
I took the kids to the playground after the carrots where we bumped into Phoebe’s best friend Math-er-ew. His name is Matthew, but Phoebe has always called him Math-er-ew and now Ernie does too. We knew they were coming and the kids stood on top of the slide shouting Math-er-ew, Math-er-ew. It made me laugh.
One time, about two years ago I remember Math-er-ew quietly protesting and saying, “It’s Matthew”, but since then he’s just accepted his moniker. I call him Math-er-ew too. And I always will. Until he’s old enough to punch me in the face.
He is the sweetest of boys, which is lucky because Phoebe is set on marrying him (though she is a modern woman and has her eye on a few other potential spouses too). Ernie wants to marry his mum. I will be reminding him of that in 16 years time. And hoping that my mum does not tell him that I wanted to do the same.
We had fun on the skateboard ramp that no one ever skateboards on (but thanks to the Lottery for providing it for our village anyway), creating a game where the kids ran up and down it whilst trying to avoid being tagged. It was a bit too hard for Ernie, though he has inherited persistence from somewhere (along with the desire to make carrots talk) and he eventually found a way to climb up the side of the ramp and reach the platform (and that kind of skill is definitely not inherited from me) and stood triumphantly at the top. It was a heroic mission that if witnessed by Robert the Bruce would surely have led to an independent Scotland.
The fact that playgrounds and schools are (currently) open makes this lockdown a lot more palatable than the first (admittedly only for parents, but the first one was such a struggle in this regard that I think we deserve our showboating. It’s strange because the prospect of going into second lockdown was so utterly depressing, but now it’s here, I am (so far) OK with it.
I guess if President Trump had been toppled three days into the first lockdown it might have cheered (most of) us up a bit more. I am still cautious about being too happy about it as I’d like to see what happens for the next weeks and months first, but for the first time I suspected that once that balloon was pricked that it would deflate pretty harmlessly. It’s incredible to think that 70 millions Americans think Trump was doing a good enough job to want him back, but I don’t think 70 million Americans will believe that the vote wasn’t fair or shouldn’t’ be respected.
But I might be wrong.
For now there’s a feeling of hope.
In everywhere else in the world apart from the UK where we’re stuck with our 2016 decision and seem to have no way of overturning it. And now Brexit had no ally in the US and had alienated the EU, so I suspect we’re going to be nostalgic for the relative comfort and happiness of 2020.
