Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

Archive for the tag “Kinder Eggs”

Lego, Trump and Guantanamo.

The Mighty Headed boy and I have spent the last hour or two making lego. We’ve built a thingy, a few seats and something that would look good in Guantanamo Bay High Security wing. Small hands, big plans

My job has been to lie on the floor and do what I’m told. (How many first dates have ended that way?) I am the lego separator and the audience for his commentary that has continued with the persistent pragmatism usually reserved for a land invasion with air support. 

Your average sports commentator would have had to refer to pundit, co-commentator and catering by now. Not here. All that has been needed is an occasional Starburst. 90 minutes of commentary, songs about the continents, occasionally Jesus and infrequent random shouting have accompanied the building of a tower as improbably conceived as the new president’s golden erection in New York. (Incidentally the boy also reflects the president in blaming others when questioned. The Hula Hoop investigation continues. The Mighty-Headed Boy. The lego is actually four feet high. 

This has been soothing in ways expensive therapies can only get near. It takes me back to being Didsbury Son’s sounding board as he 

Created worlds I could not imagine and found entertainment where I saw a cul de sac. 
I think I am lucky. I was happy with 0, 1 and 3 heirs to the Didsbury Eczema. To have a second run at the golden years when you are essentially an heroic Climbing Frame that produces Kinder Eggs on demand is usually worth the sleep depravation, joint damage, worry, money consuming, intimacy disabling Years that are behind and ahead of me. Tourists

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Tottenham Court Road v Wilmslow Road, take me home

London has a habit of draining you more quickly than a visit to The Trafford Centre. Sometimes it is uplifting; sporting occasions, big events, trips with children – fantastic. But being down here for a day’s work, even with the ease of the Pendolino reminds what I love about living and working in Manchester.

I have had a successful day here. Done the deal, power shaken and been part of the metropolis on the day we celebrated our renewed sporting
prowess and organisational skill with a dash of open-hearted humanity.

But the thousand tiny cuts that such a commute makes to your humanity has me reaching for the dictionary to re-define parochial as “Home Sweet Home”. Each time I am down here I realise how much I have changed my priorities. I have a hour so to kill. In the past it would have been reaching for my diary, heading for bar and looking for an experience.

Now I am sitting in a coffee shop on Tottenham Court Road surrounded by technology shops thinking how much better this would be with Didsbury Son next to me hurrying me to drink up for a look around.

He would be in heaven at the idea of rows and rows of shop fronts stacked with Beats headphones, XBoxes, Samsung, Sony and all things micro-chipped. Didsbury Son would be prodding, playing,grabbing and dropping everything he could before talking me into buying him something just beyond his own understanding, and therefore way beyond mine. Technologically I peaked at Kinder Eggs and electronic game wise it was Donkey Kong.

He would lose interest in it on the way home and before it was shoved in a drawer, re-packaged for a minor cousin or eBayed it would remind me of a day out.

Similarly Decathlon and any sports shopping is always immeasurably
dull without our game of covering up all the team shirts of which we disapprove with those of a more acceptable hue.

This game of red and blue cat and mouse with the staff is up there with pants on the head in the amusement longevity states.

So, until the next half-term break or weekend when we can sneak off and turn a dull task into a snigger fest I will be a dutiful Didsbury Dad. I will make my calls, send my mobile emails and mooch around the shops looking for a suitable little gift for him, before buying something crap from Euston as I rush for the train having found a bar to while away the time.

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