Our eldest boy
will celebrate his 6th birthday on Sunday. Conor is of hazel eyes
and red hair that needs cutting at least every 6 weeks. At the minute he is minus two front
teeth. When he discovered the second one
was loose, remembering his mini lotto from the first one, he was nothing short
of tying a piece of string around it and attaching it to a door handle in order
to make a few bob. Mr. Winkle, the
newsagent, is kept going by Conor’s weekly purchase of a Kinder Egg. Conor has a wicked sense of humour and loves
nothing more than being able to fart or belch mid-sentence, all the better if
it takes him by surprise. He regularly
complains that I make him “forget his words.”
There is a strong belief in his mind that five monster kisses on his
forehead at bedtime will keep bad dreams at bay. He likes to eat pain au chocolate(s) for his
breakfast with hot chocolate (very Parisian!) and is monstrously fond of pancakes with
chocolate spread and the odd one with lemon and sugar. He has a fondness for The Pink Panther and a
disturbingly large tendency to torment his younger brother. He suffers from hay fever, which has turned
into asthma in the warm weather. He also
gets freckles in the summer and can be a bit grouchy in the morning. As far as he is concerned, he is a superhero
and can morph into all sorts of yokes at a moment’s notice. (Thanks for that, Ben 10!) Presently he is
asking all sorts of awkward questions about god and his ability to float in and
out of rooms. God that is, not
Conor. I am unsure how to answer his
theology questions and find myself wishing he would ask where babies come from
or something simple like that. He claims
to hate beans and I know he detests cabbage and other similar greens. He shows
strong leanings towards being a conspiracy theorist, suspecting strongly that
vegetables are rat poison in disguise and put on this earth for the sole
purpose of causing him unending torment. He is a bit clever and just when I think he
has forgotten about something, the fiver the tooth fairy gave him for instance,
which he gave me for “safe keeping” he will ask for it back. Lately I
discovered his “shiver” is when I file my nails. I have filed (ahem) this one away for future
use. A little mercenary, the only way to
bribe him or encourage him to do as he is asked is to threaten the removal of
his paltry pocket money. He possesses quite a strong competitive streak and
current interests are Jolly Phonics, SpongeBob Square Pants, nature encyclopedias,
K-Nex and everything chocolate. Art
work and drawing are proving to be his forte. There can be some confusion on
the drive home from school some days. He
asks why I am shouting at the man on the radio.
He means the contestant on The Just a Minute Quiz with “they didn’t suit
you, did they” Larry Gogan. Sometimes I
get carried away when I know the answer and berate the contestant. He has also asked me when am I getting the prize
for answering all the questions and cannot grasp how Larry can’t hear me
answering them.
You wreck my head
when you deliberately don’t answer me but I love it when you come over for a
snuggle. Even if they are getting
shorter and fewer in between. We have
the most amazing fights sometimes and I am always impressed at how you can put
them behind you minutes later and start on a fresh page, all anger
forgotten. Even if mine is a bit slower
to abate. You’re loud, you’re
sensitive. You like a joke and you love
a treat. We both like it when we get a
bit of one on one time together. The
house is going to be full of your friends on the 19th of February
and I can’t wait. Happy birthday, Conor
Bug. We’d be lost without you.
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