The Colli-Wobbles

Melbourne.
Autumn.
Easter.
The gods have gone crazy and hence its either snowing in the foothills or baking like the Sahara, with nothing in between.

Hence, during a period of the latter dad had taken Mike down to their favourite beach at Ricketts Point, Beaumaris, for a splash about in the shallows.

As Mike was having his requisite pre-paddle crawl about and shell-licking he spotted a little dog, and grinned.
And in turn he was subsequently spotted by the little dogs owner.
Who ran over, yelled "whats his name?" and totally enamored, proceeded to pick up Mike and dance about with him on the beach.

Which attracted her friends.

Suddenly, Mike was surrounded by a dozen Japanese students all oooh-ing and ahhhh-ing, wanting cuddles and taking photos with their mobiles phones (see pic, wonderfully called "cute-boy.jpg" - thanks Martin!).

It was somewhat surreal in a Paris Hilton paparazzi kinda way...

Lets just hope it doesn't go to his head.

While he wasn't pre-occupied with charming the masses over Easter, he was attending his first canoe polo tournament; watching mum compete in and captain the "rest of the world" team (dad tried to convince her to call themselves the Barbarians, after the Rugby side,... it didnt appear to catch on with the laydees...) in the national championships.

And scarily for dads sanity, Mike appears a convert/natural, with mum and dad having to chase him all over the park to curtail his fascination with attempting to clutch and break very expensive carbon fibre paddles, sit on and crush very expensive carbon-kevlar boats, and chucking himself in the river.

After realising one of the strange water creatures in funny hats was mum he was obsessed, even attempting to paddle his pram home. (We'll have to explain to him fluid viscosity...)

At least its a cheaper sport than windsurfing.

By easter Monday the games were over so family tootled off down the coast for a lunch at a quaint little cafe overlooking the bay. Upon entering they realised that tables and chairs were only just wide enough apart for their fancy new pram to maneuver through, narrow as it is.

"Oh,.. sorry", as dad crashed into a table leg.
"WHOOPS", as he crunched the wheels over someones foot.
"Scusi..." as he pushed past a ruffled waitress.

There were a few looks that, somewhat ironically, were perfectly described in The (r)Age the following day by comedian Nelly Thomas:

"One thing I didn't know about having babies is that some people don't like them. You walk into some cafes with a pram and they look at you like it's the Gaza strip and you're carrying a heavy backpack."

The highlight of the visit once seated, apart from gorging themselves silly on an all-day breakfast menu (mmmmm..... a.l.l... d.a.y... b.r.e.a.k.f.a.s.t...) was, of course, Mike. Offering him a snack off mums plate, mum n'dad would blow on his serves of corn fritatta and then hand them across.

Which instead of eating, he'd blow on, then smile for approval of his newly learned trick.
"Go on freddy, eat it..."
{blow blow, smile smile}
"No... eat.. yum yum...
{blow blow smile smile}

Oh well. Its a skill. As well as a dieting technique.

Finally, from the trip home, we give you: How to (nearly) win a Darwin Award (part 1).

Dad, a decent and law-abiding Carlton supporter (ok, lapsed Carlton supporter - he hasn't gone to a game in years, but fondly remembers when he lived across the road from Princes Park and attended nearly every home match... for the last quarter anyway, when the blue-coats would open the gates and you could sneak in for free; he was a penniless student after all), is happily driving the car along the busy four-lane section of Nepean Hwy, minding his own business.

All is calm, peace and light, with bub happily burbling away at the other cars, dad in laid back holiday driving mode, and mum day dreaming about life the universe and everything.

In a sudden moment of TAC-ad like madness, in heavy traffic and with no warning, mum mutters...

"I think Mike should barack for Collingwood."

If not for dads amazing Ninja-like self control, his subsequent Colli-wobble amongst 4-lanes of speeding steel could have been the end of the A,P+M gene pool right there.

(Dont try this at home folks. Seriously.)

Postscript: The top pic is the first ever image of the lad standing unaided. Somewhat embarrassingly (for the boy, at his 21st...) it was taken when he was sprung raiding mums rags,... errrr... female sanitary items, drawer..! Oh.. and if you havent noticed, this is the 100th post on this blog. Crikey. Print this post