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 “Legend of Zelda”

Wii love you

“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.

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Tempura - the nearest interest I have to Manga

 

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.

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All attempts to get the ducks to join in with Wii Sports Resot failed miserably

 

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Domino’s Dancing and Step Back in Time

I had to go to Wilmslow on Monday. I am not showing off or trying to gain sympathy but Didsbury Son and I had an appointment in the cheekbone-friendly, WAG filled Cheshirery of the Wilm. As with most visits to areas of Manchester where the Trafford Centre and the A34 have killed the local shops, it made be even more aware of the diversity and independence we have nestling between M&S, the approaching Domino’s and our blue and red coffee chains.

Domino’s in Didsbury. Its slot between Earle & Ginger and Carrington’s sums up the village nicely – a thorn between two roses. It has a great view through to the back wall of Gourmet Burger King unhindered by there being anyone in there. I like GBK, there are so few open spaces left in Manchester.

I like to slowdown Didsbury Son’s enthusiastic stories and dull his senses a little by talking him through what shops used to be when I was his age. Realising that this is even less interesting than when my dad did the same to me as at least he was running around in the Blitz when shops closed down more dramatically, I carry on.

The Aldi was a bus garage. It had a bit of mystique to it as I could not see over the wall and had to guess what went on inside. When it was announced that a German cut-price supermarket was landing on the site there was NIMBY led outrage, but nothing like a credit crunch to give 29p courgettes an extra bite.

The new houses behind the village were Healds Dairy and all the houses have milk deposits in the foundations. The Fletcher Moss was the pub for the Dairy. It was The Albert then and the nearest I ever got to feeling rural. I used to find it sad that the Fletcher Moss had a sign up saying no work clothes as it seems to be unnecessarily wiping the past. But they do have a good selection of snacks so are forgiven. O’Neill’s spent years as a Save The Children Fund shop; Didsbury’s only charity shop for decades (honestly) and next to it, Caffe Rouge and whatever the pub between the closed shop and the GBK is called, was a lovely cobblestone parking and mooching bay that had been the entrance to the station where you got the train to London.

I am on the Train to London now. Two hours only and there’s a Caffe Rouge, Subway and M&S Simply Food at Euston in case I get homesick. If Evans, Folk, Fusion Deli and Blade opened up here this place could do well. Next year I can pop on the metro and be at the new media capital of Britain in 10 minutes. Next they’ll be inventing Xbox Kinect.

Now fetch me Pomfret Cake and back to the reminiscing. When I give Didsbury Son this meander through the not mean streets that we tread, he looks at me like a gentle carer with a slightly confused patient. He puts his arm around me, smiles up with big grey eyes and ignoring it all, goes straight back into some technical breakdown of Legend of Zelda that takes the same time as your average shop re-fit.

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