A planned family get-together in the Shire was cancelled this morning because at least three of the four adults involved were feeling viral, and no-one wanted to share anyone else’s germs. So H stayed up in the Frozen North with his, and R and I met up with L and the Boy Wonder at Slimbridge, where we reasoned that most of our time would be spent outdoors and we’d therefore be less likely to infect anyone else. The lessons of 2020 remain fairly firmly imprinted, at least on those of us who don’t now believe that the “pandemic” was a ruse dreamed up by the government to allow them to do… something or other.
Although L had visited the car park at Slimbridge on numerous occasions to hand over the Boy or receive him back from us, this was the first time she’d ever come onto the reserve itself, and B took charge immediately, showing her around and explaining how everything works. We had lunch, which went surprisingly smoothly, then went out to the boardwalk around Swan Lake, where the Boy likes to feed the birds. L was suitably impressed, and everyone was having a good time.
“Stepping stones next,” said the Boy, so I led the way to the new Wetland Pool, which has large circular concrete stepping stones running across it. He and I held hands as we crossed the first gap, but on the way to the next one he said, “I think I can do it by myself.” I was dubious, but he was determined, so I spanned the gap – one foot on the back stone and one on the front, and turned sideways to watch him. I’ll never know exactly what happened – I suspect he just lost his nerve at the crucial moment – but he didn’t make it over the gap, and wound up almost waist deep in muddy water. As I bent over to haul him out and offer comfort, a little voice by my knee said, “Or… maybe I can’t.”
I’ll spare you the details of the next 40 minutes, during which we rinsed and dried the retrievable garments, replaced a few others from the shop, and bagged up the rest for later boiling, but throughout the whole performance B was an absolute star. His mother and I are both very much better in a crisis than we are at dealing with the petty irritations of everyday life, and it looks as though the Boy Wonder may have inherited the trait. I’d expected that he would want to go home as soon as we’d finished cleaning him up, but instead he gave R a winsome smile and said “Can I feed the birds again?” And R, who’s as soft as butter, went straight back to the shop for another bag of bird food. Which you can’t see here, past the maternal bomber jacket, but I think you can see the jaunty determination as B strode out onto the boardwalk, looking to see who (including the rooks) hadn’t yet received their fair share of seed.
Our little Boy is growing up fast.
