My weekend with the kids

Time spent with my kids is never wasted, and having four means there are times when I can reflect back at just how bizarre it can all be sometimes. For example, on taking the younger two to soft play Hell on the Saturday, my phone was slowly running out of battery (seemingly in time with how I was running out of patience). I gave the kids a “Battery at 25% warning”, and they didn’t bat an eyelid. In years gone by it would have been a ten minute warning that we were going to be leaving. Proof that life revolves around mobile phones much more than I realised.

Earlier in the day my seven year old pointed out of the window excitedly. “Look! There’s a rainbow!” His face lit up in excitement. We were visiting my mum at the time, and getting into the spirit of things she replied to him excitedly “Maybe there’s a pot of gold at the end of it!”
“That’s unlikely,” my 13 year old chimed in, almost emotionlessly, “rainbows have no end. They are circular and infinite.” She then wandered off leaving the three of us looking at the rainbow, slightly stunned and confused.

Ouchie! 7 year old's mildly bruised finger.

Ouchie! 7 year old’s mildly bruised finger.

Of course, it’s not all mathematical answers and phone-based timings. On the Friday when I picked them up, I noticed that my 7 year old had a quizzical look on his face. “Dad?” he asked, his young features screwed up in a mixture of concentration and confusion, “What would happen if you put a camel on a plane?”

I had to admit that I didn’t know. Not that he seemed too worried. He muttered something about it unbalancing the plane and causing it to crash because the weight wasn’t level (he can occasionally be quite intense for a 7 year old). As a friend on Twitter later said, all that would happen is that the pilot would get the hump.

Lastly, it wouldn’t be time spent with the kids unless one of them got an injury. Within minutes of getting into soft play, the seven year old somehow managed to trap his fingers in the door, causing an immediate, albeit light, bruise to appear on his fingers. Between sobs, and mid-cuddle, he asked if I could send a photo to his mum to show her the injury. I agreed and quickly snapped and sent this picture. I had failed to realise what message this possibly conveyed, giving that it was his middle finger that was bruised.

That was the weekend that was!


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