One evening last week, while lying on the floor playing with his toy truck, Jake went very still.
“Jake, are you falling asleep?” I asked. It was . Not the ideal time for him to be having a nap.
The back of his head nodded twice, then I heard snoring. He was still holding his truck. He stayed in that position for an hour.
On Friday last week we had a glorious September day – sunny, warm, HOT even. So we went to the Marshes. I couldn't believe how long it'd been since we were last there. It's been such a crappy summer weather-wise.
While walking past some bramble thickets, Jake flung his sunglasses into the thorny mass, stopped and said, "Uh oh!"
I stopped and asked him why he would do such a thing. He shrugged, looking as surprised as I was that he'd done it. I looked but I couldn’t see a sign of them anywhere. I then launched into a mini lecture about why that was a naughty thing to do and how it isn't easy to find sunglasses like that (they were bendy and indestructible and he liked them and actually wore them AND they were fairly cheap and from Decathlon in South London - South London for goodness sake!!).
We walked on and a few moments later I found a pair of children's sunglasses on the path, hot pink and heart shaped, but still.
"Well how about that! They're pink and heart shaped but they'll probably fit you. What do you think Jake?" I put them on him.
"I don't like them." He said, but didn't try to remove them.
I took them off him but kept them anyway, tickled by the whimsical notion of a magical bramble thicket that taketh and then giveth away.
Later, I apologised to Jake for ranting at him about throwing his sunglasses. I'm sure he didn't mean to lose them on purpose. I said, "And don't worry, we can get you some new ones."
"We got some new ones already," he replied.
He hasn't worn them yet, but he's allowed me to keep them as if he might. We shall see.
On the same sunny day, sitting by the river outside the greasy spoon caff with Jake, watching people drink tea and ride by on their bikes, he says,
“I’ve got things in my mouth.”
“Really, what have you got?”
“I have a cuppa tea!”
“Wow, a whole cup of tea!”
“Yes, and bicycles!!”
“Wow, that’s a big mouth you’ve got there.”
“Yes. But not as big as Daddy’s.”
While reading Mog the Forgetful Cat the other night, a story we’ve been reading at bedtime for a number of months now, Jake suddenly interjected, “He needs to be shot.”
Being the morally corrupt parent that I am, I guffawed. So naturally he kept doing it. I could kind of understand. The dog was chasing Mog, so yeah, maybe he needed to be shot. And Mr & Mrs Thomas for sure, with their irritating middle-class-English pronouncements of “Bother that cat!” when Mog crushed their precious geraniums or slept on a hat that THEY'D left on a chair or her tail blocked the boxing on TV. Honestly! She's a CAT. Get OVER it. So yeah, they needed to be shot.
But when Jake said Mog should be shot I had to disagree. He thought about it for a moment then said, “OK, just his tail needs to be shot then.” Naturally I guffawed some more.
I was convinced this had something to do with Daddy’s version of Mog, but Daddy swears it wasn’t him. Hmmm. I didn’t realize Jake was quite so imaginative.
Inspired by his inventiveness, I decided to rename the Thomases "Shingenshengen". Jake found this infinitely amusing. And it makes Mr & Mrs Thomas a teeny bit more bearable.
In the playground the other day, Jake asked for a wipe for his face. When finished with the wipe, he held it under his chin and said, "Look I've got a beard!"
Then he pointed at various people in the playground and pronounced whether they had a beard or not. Some of those that did were women.
Must be all those trips to Stoke Newington.
Jake: I can hear the recycling truck very far away.
Me (not hearing it): Wow, you have really good ears.
Jake: Yes I do. (Pause) WHAT? (giggles hysterically)
And apparently he’s a comedian too.
Of course it isn't all laughs and free sunglasses. Most days he feels the need to disagree with me about everything, from where I'm allowed to touch in and out with my Oyster card or whether the sink is in fact full of washing up to telling me I am not hungry and am therefore not allowed to cook or eat.
And I can't even begin to talk about the
And finally...following the creation of
South Tottenham, Jake has suggested two more characters for me to get busy with: Hackney Downs and Gospel Oak (and yes, they are train stations).
Watch this space!
Watch this space!
(Apologies for the weird spacing in this post. I don't know why it's happening and I don't know how to fix it.)