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 “Ray Winstone”

Postcard from Murcia 1/4 – Sexy Beast

The great thing about family holidays with teenagers, tantrums and a pool are that by the time the tan fades, so does the memory of the arguments, meltdowns over sun cream, mosquito bites and that moment I just had when you squint down through sweat covered eyes and realise that although in your head you are a David Beckham 40, without the tattoos and with body hair, you are not in fact breathing out and it’s all you.   Not David Beckham

This is bliss. Actually in my head I am now Ray Winstone in the Opening scene of Sexy Beast. Didsbury Son has sloped off to his lair, Didsbury Wife and the Pearly Princess sleep coiled like beautiful cat and kitten under a fan in the bedroom and the Mighty Headed Boy has finally conked out on the couch. It is hot. 


 Acclaim for my Ray Winstone references 
I am alone. An hour of solitude, but for cicadas and the distant hum of the Mar Menor. My balcony is not overlooked and is split equally between 90 degree sun and cool shade. This is Didsbury Dad bliss. A tummy full of Navajos, a cool drink of water next to me and no Wi-Fi so I can’t stress about anything outside of my sweaty and happy bubble. I am Ray Winstone and I have had the privelige of doing something for the last 30 minutes that I have not done since before I became a Didsbury Dad; nothing.

IMG_0083What is going through my mind right now
I have not thought of anything constructive. I have not made plans, read emails, considered local or global conundrums. I have not tidied, folded the washing or read a book. I have spent the time staring and sweating happily. Now the blog’s written it’s back to the abyss. 

Things you only say once

Having the twins provides the potential to not make the same mistakes twice. I say potential carefully. I know it’s not a done deal or I would have only paid one visit to the ear specialist, KFC and Sega Football Manager.

I am old enough to know the hand movements to The Communards, “You Are My World” but can I learn from the moments that Didsbury Son is saving up to tell his therapist as an adult? My dad wrote a fictionalised blog. BUT IT WAS REAL TO ME”.

In the spirit of learning. In the spirit that parenting (cue platitude) doesn’t have a manual but does have 600 books written by “celebrities” in need of work whilst on maternity leave. In the spirit that if knowledge is power I did not have the vote to begin with… Things You Only Say Once.

1. It’s a 12/15 but he should be okay.
Didsbury Son’s vivid imagination and ability to empathise are wonderful attributes. I have never seen Cowboys v Aliens but for a junior school Didsbury Son it meant weeks of sleeping with the light on.

2. All kids love playing football. No and I need to remember taking a reluctant Didsbury Son to Fog Lane Park on a snowy Saturday for Didsbury Juniors. He shrank into as many patient coaches’ coats as was feasible and looked sad eyed enough to have had his own postcard. This mistake will not happen again; it needed far more brainwashing before he started.

3. You go away – I’ll be fine. I won’t.

4. Let’s go to Centre Parcs. Let’s not. It is cruelty without beauty, faux holidays not aimed at people who like to mooch and relax. I am from Didsbury. We put the Id in Middle Class. Didsbury Son thinks Subway is “street” and my idea of of slumming it is going somewhere that doesn’t offer the option of a Skinny Latte.

5. Punch him and walk away slowly saying “These colours don’t run”. My self image as laid back dad died a quick death in Year 2 when Didsbury Son was briefly picked on. In reality it was a spat and they were back playing a day later. Didsbury Wife added context, love and understanding. My sense of outrage had me searching for clips of Scum to show Ray Winstone in action and scouring the loft for my Junior Pot Black balls and cue.

What have I learned. Breathe deeply, don’t overreact and even though they will never be mini versions of you, dress them like it whilst they are still too small to complain.

The play date for twins was very successful.

* Scum (1979) is not a parenting video

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: