“When I were a lad we got nothing for Christmas. You don’t know you’re born.” I have always wanted to say that to Didsbury Son. However, first, I am Jewish and we got great Chanucah presents and secondly, existential concepts around the notion his own birth can only lead to a major premise that I am pointlessly waffling at him and a minor premise that I have interrupted The Cleveland Show with something pointless. In fact, so pointless it made me trying to get him to memorise our team’s squad numbers before he knew his times tables as a noble bit of parenting.
But Didsbury Son has achieved. Achieved way beyond expectation and with his customary nonchalance and grace. The reward was an hour in The Trafford Centre hyperventilating whilst we considered the axis of dweevil; Curry’s, GAME, HMV and John Lewis. We knew it wouldn’t be John Lewis, but out of respect for my class and Didsbury Wife we went anyway. I have always wanted to go to a GAME staff party and ask if an Ewok was in Pokemon or Star Wars as I always get them mixed up with Princesses Leia, Eugenie and Zelda
Curry’s: Mike, a superb example of 12 year old enthusiasm in a 25 year old body embraced Didsbury Son’s desire for more gizmos in a way I could never have even neared. As they milked me at the till he described how to leap a frog and strike something several times to get to somewhere else that looked like The Seargant Pepper front cover. I paid, we left and once home, installed and Zelda’d up to the eyelashes…. Silence
Really. Peace. Occasionally I checked he was OK; stopped him for the odd water and snack break but it entertained him in a way Soma could only have dreamed of doing; stopped him asking me questions just as the scores came on the radio and left him satisfied in a seldom-seen manner.
A Wii; like having a playful babysitter turn up on demand when you need a few hours peace. I can’t believe I have wasted this long trying parenting and engagement and other great concepts that seem good when you read about them in The Observer.
I have seen the future. I may no longer have access to a television but I have gained a day each weekend.