Friday, 9 March 2007

You know how to wiggle don't you?

After my shave and what with the sunshine and everything I’m in a good mood as I gambol upstairs with my daughter to her classroom. Then, as I walk through the door, I see playdate mum. She’s nice and all, but I felt in need of a couple more days before seeing her again.
“Hi.” I say.
“Well, hello!” She beams. “Thank you for the thank you card!”
“Thank you for the thank you!” I parrot, horribly.
She laughs gaily. It may be that she just doesn’t notice or care about my solecisms. Or perhaps it’s the lack of beard.
We fuss around our children for a while and then troop downstairs together.
Outside in the limpid pre-Spring sunshine we circle around each other on the pavement in readiness for our appropriate departure trajectories. Then suddenly I say it. “We really should arrange a return playdate.”
“Great”, she beams.
“But you’re having a baby soon” I say, “So, er, obviously…”
“No, that’s fine, I’m not going to let the baby affect the children”.
I squeak with laughter. She sees me laughing and laughs too, but I'm not sure we're laughing at the same thing.
“Right well, er …”
“How about next week?” she suggests.
NO! I expected it to be a constantly postponed, always–a-few-weeks-off type arrangement. Not this.
“Of course. I’ve got nothing on.”(I haven’t … ever.)
“Sounds great. How about Friday?”
“Friday. Great.”
So that’s it. All arranged.

In the car on the way home I wonder what I’m going to do. There’s no room in our house for running along corridors. No boys’ toys. No Wiggles videos. In fact unless you like running up and down stairs it’s not a whole heap of fun. Then suddenly, while swerving around yet another road-crosser unaware of the silent menace of the Prius, it occurs to me what to do. I can give them both lunch. He likes football. I’ll buy a football and take them to the park and have a kick around and then onto the playground and then back for biscuits and hope that he doesn’t notice the lack of Wiggles. Easy. I don’t know what I was worrying about.


anotherparent said...

Hurrah! You are launched on play dates. If it rains and you can't go to the park to kick a ball, then let them move all the furniture around and build a den with blankets etc, and have a picnic inside. Kids who come from fancy houses usually love to be in a more relaxed house where they're allowed to make a mess. I'm assuming that yours is one of these? Hope so.

Stay at home dad said...

Good plan. Yes, well it is until my at-work wife comes home anyway, when it magically transforms into a tidy-ish one.

Anonymous said...

Okay, so I think i have found your double in USA... the guy that lives down the street from me is a stay at home dad, with a beard,(not yet shaved) and a five year old daughter. I saw him yesterday, and wanted to tell him about your blog, but the only conversations we've ever had were about the weather. It might seem strange if I tell him "Hey! your UK double is online!" So I won't...
I love reading about your adventures. Thanks for sharing them!

Stay at home dad said...

Well at least you talk to him! Thanks very much for your kind comments - great for creating writing momentum.