Famous 20-20 hindsight words #1: "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Mum and dad had been contemplating a return to their old life and bike rides down to the beach, and in eager anticipation had been eyeing off bike trailers for Mike. Eventually one came up (thanks Derrick!) and they grabbed it.
A helmet was hunted down (more later), the lad bunged into the harness and off they headed with all the good intentions of joining Mistress P's long lost uni-friends reunion in the Bot gardens.
The grizzles started at the 2.5km mark. So the convoy stopped and reassessed. Oh dear. The Boy was slumped like he'd OD'd on illegal opiate; head down, body contorted sideways, helmet all askew. Any chiroparctor seeing it would have had a fit... of joy thinking about a dead cert future client.
Boy was subsequently slid back upright, belts altered and helmet realigned, but it seemed obvious. He's just too little. So back home it was, with boy sleeping most of the way, but again, in a position that'd make even David Blaine cringe. Total distance 5.5km.
Lets try again in a month.
Speaking of food, we give you Lemon part deux; The times they are a changin'.
Or at least the boys tastes. See, a cupla months ago we were amazed when we had fish and chips and the bit he appeared to like most was not the fish, or even the chip, but rather the lemon.
Only this time when we had a picnic of fish and chips in the backyard, young Mike did indeed take a greater shine to the chips, but when he spotted the lemon clearly remembered his past fascination, grabbed the nearest slice and shoved it in his gob.
And recoiled in horror.
So he tried it again.
Yucko...
And again.
He appeared totally unable to stop himself yet totally unable to enjoy it. He was, well, stunned.
So he shimmied over to dad, who was lying back on the rug as you do in picnic mode, gazing up at a weather balloon/planet that he had become entranced by ("Well, it was a dot that just sat there a million miles up in the blue..."), and shoved the lemon in dads gob instead.
So much for getting any rest in the great outdoors. Or for that matter, sleep in general.
Ahhh.... Sleep.
It was all seeming so so good again. And then the lad went back into his recent pattern of sleep till 3:30am (note... AM), stay awake for as long as possible necessitating a mum/dad tag team after the first hour, and then attempt to sleep in blissfully unaware of how rooted mum and dad feel as one or both headed off to work. Thanks boy!
Whats funniest(?) is the boys apparent desire to sleep yet inability to kip down.
See, middle of the night theres all this flipping and flopping and arching of the back and "I DONT WANNA GO TO SLEEP!", but put him down on the floor with a couch cushion and he'll take two or three crawls forward till he's over it and
Then he realises his reign of terror has only another 83 years to go, and he's up and off again and awake... for two or three more crawls then
Finally, his latest mode of transportation; truck driving. Well.. not so much a truck as a plastic thing with wheels and a handle. And not so much driving as staggering (those opiates again?). See below... well we're impressed anyway.
Mum and dad had been contemplating a return to their old life and bike rides down to the beach, and in eager anticipation had been eyeing off bike trailers for Mike. Eventually one came up (thanks Derrick!) and they grabbed it.
A helmet was hunted down (more later), the lad bunged into the harness and off they headed with all the good intentions of joining Mistress P's long lost uni-friends reunion in the Bot gardens.
The grizzles started at the 2.5km mark. So the convoy stopped and reassessed. Oh dear. The Boy was slumped like he'd OD'd on illegal opiate; head down, body contorted sideways, helmet all askew. Any chiroparctor seeing it would have had a fit... of joy thinking about a dead cert future client.
Boy was subsequently slid back upright, belts altered and helmet realigned, but it seemed obvious. He's just too little. So back home it was, with boy sleeping most of the way, but again, in a position that'd make even David Blaine cringe. Total distance 5.5km.
Lets try again in a month.
Oh, and then theres the helmet itself.
When we finally found a size XS (44-48cm circumference with obligatory dinosaurs motif) we were chuffed that the lad a) would actually allow it to sit on his head for more than 20 seconds (as opposed to his sun hat which he tries to rip off instantly), and b) seemed physically excited by it.
Tops.
So on the way home from the bike shop we let him play with it in his car seat.
Now heres a tip for young players... dont.
We arrived home to find chunks missing from parts of the foam, and a very happy lad with bits of helmet being masticated gleefully by his 6 teeth and crusher gums. All i can say is...Lucky it was a short trip: we should have know that for the lad there is not a great difference between toys and food.
When we finally found a size XS (44-48cm circumference with obligatory dinosaurs motif) we were chuffed that the lad a) would actually allow it to sit on his head for more than 20 seconds (as opposed to his sun hat which he tries to rip off instantly), and b) seemed physically excited by it.
Tops.
So on the way home from the bike shop we let him play with it in his car seat.
Now heres a tip for young players... dont.
We arrived home to find chunks missing from parts of the foam, and a very happy lad with bits of helmet being masticated gleefully by his 6 teeth and crusher gums. All i can say is...Lucky it was a short trip: we should have know that for the lad there is not a great difference between toys and food.
Speaking of food, we give you Lemon part deux; The times they are a changin'.
Or at least the boys tastes. See, a cupla months ago we were amazed when we had fish and chips and the bit he appeared to like most was not the fish, or even the chip, but rather the lemon.
Only this time when we had a picnic of fish and chips in the backyard, young Mike did indeed take a greater shine to the chips, but when he spotted the lemon clearly remembered his past fascination, grabbed the nearest slice and shoved it in his gob.
And recoiled in horror.
So he tried it again.
Yucko...
And again.
He appeared totally unable to stop himself yet totally unable to enjoy it. He was, well, stunned.
So he shimmied over to dad, who was lying back on the rug as you do in picnic mode, gazing up at a weather balloon/planet that he had become entranced by ("Well, it was a dot that just sat there a million miles up in the blue..."), and shoved the lemon in dads gob instead.
So much for getting any rest in the great outdoors. Or for that matter, sleep in general.
Ahhh.... Sleep.
It was all seeming so so good again. And then the lad went back into his recent pattern of sleep till 3:30am (note... AM), stay awake for as long as possible necessitating a mum/dad tag team after the first hour, and then attempt to sleep in blissfully unaware of how rooted mum and dad feel as one or both headed off to work. Thanks boy!
Whats funniest(?) is the boys apparent desire to sleep yet inability to kip down.
See, middle of the night theres all this flipping and flopping and arching of the back and "I DONT WANNA GO TO SLEEP!", but put him down on the floor with a couch cushion and he'll take two or three crawls forward till he's over it and
...{slump}...he flops down and lays there, head all sideways and arms spread and all "aahhh.... sleep glorious sleep...".
Then he realises his reign of terror has only another 83 years to go, and he's up and off again and awake... for two or three more crawls then
... {slump}.Sleep glorious sleep.
Finally, his latest mode of transportation; truck driving. Well.. not so much a truck as a plastic thing with wheels and a handle. And not so much driving as staggering (those opiates again?). See below... well we're impressed anyway.
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1 comment:
Yes well I remember my friends Carl & Mel taking Brannie with us as we rode around the wineries of Rutherglen. A similar but worthwhile experience was had using a kiddies bike seat. About half way thrught the arvo Carl had to ride back and get the car as Brannie just wouldn't be part of it anymore. He was really young at the time.
I'm checking this blogspot thing out by the way. Being a neanderthal and all. Do you have a copy of all these images and words in some form should this website go down? It would be a tragedy to lose it.
I was a big trucking kid. Loved anything that ran on fossil fuels. Except for Datsun 120Y's. They were too ugly.
Adrian
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