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My son rushed into the kitchen to excitedly inform us that he was playing himself at Badmington and the score was 3-2. I couldn't be more proud of him. He knows nothing about my snooker project. Self-playing sport is in his DNA and safe for another generation.
He hasn't yet named his personas, but I can't help him with that. It has to come naturally. Let's see if he has the genius to name himselves Me1 and Me2.
It's cool getting to spend time with the kids, though I constantly feel guilty that I am not taking them out to do stuff enough. Bath was so much fun and we were away from devices and TV for most of the time, but back home it's easy to stick them on the iPad or in front of the telly. Then I think about my own childhood where I watched TV at every single possible opportunity - basically all day on Saturday and every day after school and well into the evening. And I turned out OK.
Um....
We're having another week away after Edinburgh, so maybe that's enough cultural stimulation for them. There's only so many times you can take them to the zoo. Ernie did spend most of the day with a friend and did slip and slide and all sorts. So as long as other parents are more conscientious than me, he should be OK.
Ernie insists on having a hall light on when he's asleep - once again he's exactly like me. I remember needing the door open and the landing light on. Obviously darkness is a bit scary, though I am not sure monsters or burglars or whatever else might be stopping you sleeping will be that bothered by a single light bulb.
You'd think that light would stop you from sleeping and as an adult I have generally sought blackout for sleeping, but somehow a light through a doorway provides the comfort a child needs to succumb to sleep.
I think most of humanity's fears and stories and religions probably began with the fear of the complete darkness that prehistoric nighttime would have brought and the awful and inexplicable creatures that waited in the gloom to rip you apart. In that case the light of a fire would indeed keep the devil in the dark at bay.
There must have come a point where I didn't need the landing light on any more, but though that would surely have been a momentous day, I don't remember when it happened. Or why I was suddenly OK with it. Maybe I never was. Maybe the light stayed on til I was 19 and left home.
I will try and remember the day that Ernie no longer requires it. If that day ever comes.
The other day, after waking up for a couple of hours in the middle of the night, I finally fell asleep with a gentle bedside light on. I couldn't be arsed to turn it off. But I think it did provide me a bit of comfort.
And I've left it on for the last few nights and felt some echo of childhood comfort from it. And I've slept pretty well. So maybe my son and me from the 1970s had it right all along. The devil in the dark is confounded once again.
Does this mean that when I play him at badmington it's already Me1 vs Me2?
