7971/20912
How is it seven years since this happened?
My baby boy was seven today. Ernest might have seemed like an apt name for him in 2017, but today he was a fizzing ball of silliness and over excitement and couldn't have been less earnest if he tried. I was always fairly confident that I would never fall in love with a tiny boy, but I love a seven year old boy and I don't care who knows it. We are in love. He loves me too. And I hug and kiss him every day.
Judge not lest ye be judged.
The last seven years have been such a blur- I wish I'd kept some kind of written record of it all so I could find out what happened- but in spite of not really registering anything that has happened I've somehow managed to keep this little scrote alive. I may have had help. Like I said, I don't remember. Last night I went to a very crowded hospital and my wife gave birth in a cupboard, today I woke up and there was a 7 year old version of me jumping around and opening presents and I live in a different house
Tomorrow, hopefully I'll wake up to find the kids have left home and I live on the moon. Fingers crossed.
We had a birthday party at 360 Play in Stevenage, and because we'd invited kids from his old school and his new school it was a ridiculous number of children. When they were all in the reception room, shouting and excited, with the noise echoing off the walls, all my remaining energy (not much after the week I've had) was sapped from my body and I thought that this was going to be a tough two hours. But once they were in the soft play area all the kids ran away to look after themselves and the adults sat in a special area where you could look at them out of a window. If you wanted. Or you could just take some heroins and make the most of your first 75 minutes off in nearly a decade.
I didn't take any of the heroins though, though all the other parents lapped them up like kittens. I just had a coffee and a sit down and imagined a world where I'd never had sex. It wasn't hard. I only basically only had sex once in my first 21 years on the planet and I don't hold out much hope for the final 21 years of my life either.
There was then a sit down meal where Ernie got to sit in a throne - something he enjoyed a bit too much and then the kids were greeted by 360 play mascot Twist, a big foam cartoon child. Most of the kids hugged her, but one was so traumatised that she was still being comforted as we left the place 20 minutes later. It's a tough call with puppets and other childhood ephemera. They skirt the line between being loveable and terrifying. Some kids are even scared of my ventriloquist dummy, Ally.
Is it deliberate that these things are placed in the hinterland betwixt joy and terror? It certainly feels that any moment any of those adorable characters might turn and start slaughtering the infants they are meant to entertain. And if five minutes in a room with 50 kids was enough to make me lose all sense, then how long before working in this place turns you into a homicidal maniac?
Luckily for the sake of Ernie's party it was not today. It would have been very embarrassing turning up at school drop off on Monday if half his classmates had been attacked by a huge foam girl. Though I suppose the parents of any hospitalised kids would not be at the school gates and it would help bring class sizes down a bit (don't show Keir Starmer this idea) so I might be seen as a hero.
There's no way of knowing.
A great day anyway, especially the bits with no kids in them. I now have to face that fact that as of February I will be a parent to a 10 year old. Why can't time slow down and drink a few heroins like the rest of us?
And thanks to the hardworking team at 360 Play. Apart from making one child sob inconsolably you did a great job (and even then the staff were very attentive to the upset child). Not an easy job, so thanks for staying so fresh and happy and not slaughtering our infants in justifiable rage.
Another guest announced for RHLSTP. Ruth Husko will be joining Josh Pugh in Birmingham on 20th October. Tickets here.
And still tickets for all the London gigs - including Fern Brady and Doon Mackichan on Monday - hopefully more guest news very soon.
Five minutes ago I took my son Henry to his first day at school, he’s 22 years old now. My chronic illness meant I spent a lot of time with him when he was younger, especially in the long summer holidays and Christmas . And I cherish those memories dearly. They make you worry constantly, and imagine every disaster will happen if you’re not with them, but then I hear his girlfriend laughing at his jokes downstairs when I’m in bed and it makes me happy.
Kids eh?!
The past four years since the start of the timewarping pandemic don’t count, so really your son (like mine) is still three.