Half-term and the Moose turned five. He was, quite possibly, the most delightful birthday child ever. We woke him early — just before seven — so that he could open his presents before B left for work. (Usually B is gone before seven; back after bedtime.) We had a visit from old London friends; a day that reminded me so much of those long ago days back when T was small. There was a chocolate cake with chocolate buttons that were meant to say ‘5’ but looked more like they said ‘S’. He turned out the lights as I lit the candles & then blew out the candles before we could get to the end of ‘Happy Birthday’. Later, on the phone to my mum and then my brother he told them about his new cement mixer: ‘You put sand in it and it comes out looking like black mud!’
There was a day when three scaffolders spent the morning carrying scaffold through the house. Each time one of them passed him, Pospy would tell them what he was doing. ‘I doing draw-colouring now’; ‘I playing train tracks’. Once, when he crying, one of the men asked him what the matter was, but he didn’t reply. When the man had gone back into the garden, Pops paused for a moment, smiled, and said, ‘The man ask me what the matter is.’ Then he started to cry again. Later we ventured out on the Moose’s new two wheel scooter. It’s called the Bullet. We made a lap of the rec, stopping to feed the ducks on the way. After we’d met a friend, T asked me not to tell anyone else that the Moose is getting used to scooting on two wheels — ‘It’s not fair. When you say that it’s embarrassing because my scooter has three-wheels and I’m older than him.’ I asked her if she’d like a two-wheeler. She wouldn’t. I promised not to mention the Moose’s scooter again.
At the end of the week we went to stay with my mum for a few days. B brought his cough up with him for the weekend. Back at home someone threw a couple of stones through the glass pane in our front door. There was a visit from a dear friend & her daughter, a delicious curry with my brother and his wife. And now here we are. The Moose’s party at the weekend. An unusually high number of evenings out for me this week (all lovely things — but I wouldn’t have planned so much in a row). Five school weeks (just five! how can that be?) until Easter. Time to get to work.