Impeccable credentials for a teenage boy
I have to admit there was an element of competition when my wife and I agreed to participate in a jobs fair at Isaac's school.
The idea was that parents would talk about their work to groups of Year Six children and this would help the youngsters to start thinking about careers.
I thought this was a great idea and deserved out support.
My wife put time and effort into preparing her stall. She is an optometrist so took along testing charts, plenty of spectacles and other paraphenalia that, frankly, I didn't like the look of.
I took along a few Echoes and some Football Echoes. I was confident that the lure of the media, the mistaken belief that the Fourth Estate still retains a whiff of glamour, would mean that my stall would be more attractive to the children present than my wife's stall.
We both wasted our time.
For among those manning tables opposite us was a stuntman. Yes, a stuntman, complete with leathers, helmet and a large, shiny motorcycle. We couldn't compete.
My better half was waffling on about glaucoma and cataracts, I was boring for England about how many papers we can print in an hour. The stuntman just had to stand to be exciting. After the jobs fair was over he gave a short display for the children. The kids loved it – and him.
Good for them.
Gabriel has impeccable credentials for a teenage boy.
His ever-deepening voice occasionally emits a squeak, he spends a great deal of time in his room, communicates in grunts and grimaces and eats a great deal.
He can also be hilariously funny and when properly engaged provide charming, informative and wonderful company.
He is used to me whingeing at him and telling him that when I was his age I didn't do this or that.
Imagine my embarrassment, then, when my elder sister came home for a visit at the weekend. I was telling her how he was developing into a miserable teenager.
"Well he can't be as bad as you were," she said. "You were the most thoroughly miserable teenager any of us knew and so moody you were hard to live with."
I think she has me muddled up with someone else.
By the time you read this my family and I will be on our way to London.
We're travelling down to the capital to see Spamalot, the CD of the show having been a big hit in our house for some time.
I was talking to Isaac about the show and its origins. It took some time to explain Monty Python, but the Camelot bit was even harder.
"So the Lottery people have been around since olden days?" he asked.
I'm still not sure if he was joking or not.
My wife often bemoans the fact she is the only woman living in our household.
She nornally finishes her diatribe with the words "at least the cat's a female".
Isaac ungallantly picked up this theme on Monday night.
"We have two females living in this house, one is old and smelly – and the other purrs," he said.
I failed in my attempt not to laugh.
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Thursday 24 May 2012
Today
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