R had to have blood tests done in Stratford early this morning, and when I mentioned this to the Boy Wonder, giving him the option of either going out with Granddad early doors or meeting up with him for breakfast later, he immediately said that we should all go to the hospital together. The first hour of the morning was thus a little fraught, as we tried to get everyone washed and dressed, and the car defrosted, in time to make sure that R wasn’t late – but we made it in time, and without too much argument, and B behaved very well as he and I waited for R to emerge from the phlebotomy room.
We then went to BTP, a walk which took far longer than the five minutes it should have, because the pavement on Mansell Street is constructed from engineering bricks, laid as setts, and quite a few of them are loose – these, according to the Boy, being exits from the system of underground tunnels running underneath much of Worcestershire and Warwickshire, and sadly, all of them needing to be found and stamped on, in order to keep the world safe. When we finally made it to the café, the Boy demolished a heap of pancakes and bacon swimming in a small lake of maple syrup, and R and I had fried breakfasts. After this we walked down to the Avon so that B could feed the birds – another journey that took longer than R and I had anticipated, because the Boy wanted to stop and look at all the shops we passed, and discuss everything that caught his eye. By the time we made it to the river R and I were anxious about the time, because we were scheduled to set off back to the Principality at noon and it was already pushing towards 11am, so I left the menfolk there (taking this snap as I went), yomped back through town to the car park, and brought the car round to Waterside to pick them up. I’ve only just noticed the Cormorant in this photo, sitting on the half-submerged sign on the far side of the bridge.
We made it out of the Shire more or less on time, but the journey to Wales took longer than expected, and by the time we arrived back at B’s house we were seriously late. The family B was delighted to have the Boy back, of course – especially the Brother, who’d clearly been missing him – and we had a lovely couple of hours with them all. R and I were charmed, and frankly amazed – by the Brother, who has commandeered one of the two sets of magnetic building tiles the Boy received over Christmas and birthday, and can not only rapidly construct towers that only stop growing when he can’t physically reach any higher to add more layers, but also casually constructs pyramids out of the triangular bits, and adds them to the sides of his towers as decoration. He’s my grandson, so of course he’s a genius, but in all seriousness I think he’s remarkably well-coordinated for two years and one month old.
I’ve included a shot of the early stage of one of the towers – but I’m sad that I can’t also bring you a film of the Brother’s other favourite game at the moment, which is called Tap Tap Box, and had R and me in tucks. Some toys, or bits of toys, are put into a box, which closes with internal flaps and an outer lid that fastens with velcro. The Brother bangs his hand or some kind of wand on the top of the box, in time with saying “Tap-tap-bok”, and then – much louder, and sing-song – “Gamma, Gamma, wass-in-a-bok?” Grandma, or Daddy, or whoever, then has to guess what’s in the box: “Is it… Lion?” If you’re right, you get a beaming smile, and “Yesss! Yiyan!!”, the box is carefully opened, Yiyan is removed, the box is properly closed, and the toy is brought over and given to you. If you’re wrong, he frowns in disappointment. “Is it… Crocodile?” Frown and shake of head. “Not Cocdiye.” “Oh. Sorry. “Is it… a car?” Beaming smile again. “Yesss! Car!!” Out comes the car to be presented to you (“Two car” if you already have one!), and then back he goes and starts again: “Tap-tap-bok. MUMMEE, MUMMEE, WASS-IN-A-BOK?” You probably needed to be there, but trust me, it was genuinely lovely.
We were having such a good time that we didn’t want to leave, but after the Boy Wonder had gone off with his Daddy to his swimming lesson we forced ourselves to go too, and by the time we arrived back at home we were almost catatonic with tiredness. We spent the evening slumped in front of the TV – but don’t expect me to be able to tell you what we watched, because it all went past me in a blur that was only partly due to the small bucket of red wine in which I was floating.
R: L2, C5, D12.
