aswingWithin a single hour yesterday I reveled in one of my proudest moments as a father and muddled through one of my most frightening.

The former – I taught the boy to catch. He was born with a ball in his hand. He’s got a thunderbolt of an arm already, but hasn’t picked up the elusive ability to catch the ball once he throws it. Yesterday we were playing with a tennis ball in the street. Him throwing, me fetching. In a fit of blind optimism, I showed him how to hold his hands out to catch a ball. After a dozen or so rebounds into his face, he closed his hands around a tossed ball at the appropriate moment. I think he was as surprised and as gleeful as I was.

I know it is a little thing, but swear to god I nearly exploded from pride.

He’s not going to be taking sharp edges at silly point or fielding towering flies at the left field fence any time soon, but he caught the ball and can do so regularly now.

andahitBoy Z, just remember your Papa when you’re the MVP of the World Series Champion Atlanta Braves or the Man of the Match at Lord’s Cricket Ground after thrashing England in the Ashes.

All my dreams of future stardom were very nearly dashed when I lost Boy Z at the supermarket.

After my masterful paternal teaching moment, we took a run up to the Woolies for some supplies. They had some Matchbox cars on sale and I was rummaging through them to try and find a bus for the boy. He’s currently obsessed with buses. I found one, turned to show it to Boy Z and he was gone.

I looked around frantically and realized that he was gone gone. I knew that nobody had snatched him because the boy screams bloody murder if a stranger looks at him funny, but still I can’t recall feeling such pure terror at any point in my life. I started running around frantically. This way, back the other way. Looking. Behind the butcher’s counter? No. Trying not to panic. In the stock room? No. Starting to panic. Hiding behind the display of ketchup? No. Short of breath. So, I started jogging down the aisles, calling for him.

And I found him and then I found my breath.

runawayHe was standing in the snack aisle looking a bit frustrated that I had taken so long to find him. For a toddler boy, life is a game and this was a game of hide and seek, nothing more. For the parent of a toddler boy, the game of life can be a trying one.

Oh, I nearly forgot the best part. When I found the bastard he was making eyes at one of the Woolies employees stocking the shelves. An employee who, when he saw the relief wash over my face as I sprinted round the corner, said “Hi Chris. Nice parenting.”

An employee who was one of my students. I can’t wait for my lecture tomorrow.

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A true classic, “London Calling” by The Clash, is available from The Clash - London Calling.

 
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