birdwatch Ireland |
We’ve got a pretty cool next door
neighbour. They don’t do an awful lot; just
sit there pretty much all day surveying their surroundings and keeping an eye
on things. At least every time I look
out the window, they’re in the same spot.
When I go for a run with our Juno dog
each morning, our neighbour is sitting in the field.
One day he (I feel he’s a he) was on the
fence post, right up close and I stopped in my tracks, absolutely amazed and
enthralled at the proximity.
Our neighbour is a buzzard.
Yep, we have those in Ireland. I’ve seen our neighbour with a “friend” over Christmas. Only once, mind. Both of them, side by side
in the field, and then they disappeared.
Smallest Boy reckoned they had gone
off “on a date to get baby eagle chicks for spring.”
He may not be wrong.
But this is not a story about our
glorious, magnificent buzzard. Instead it
is about the time I got married over Christmas for the second time.
To smallest Boy.
He loves me. I cannot creep upstairs with the laundry, a
glass of wine, a book or a magazine and he smells my absence. Minutes later I hear his soft step on the
stairs and he appears; fuzzy bed head russet hair the first thing I see on the stairs
as the rest of him appears.
He climbs up onto the bed beside me “for
chats.”
On this day both of us were looking
out the window at our neighbour who was perched atop his fence post in the field.
“Do you love him, Mammy?” Smallest Boy asked, twisting his head to look
at me.
“I do “. I confirmed.
“I think he is awesome. He is amazing
and fabulous.”
“And do you love me?”
“I do.” I kissed him.
Hard. “I think he is an awesome
and amazing buzzard and you are an awesome and amazing real human boy.”
“And are we still married? Forever?”
“Forever and ever. “ I confirmed. “Don’t I have that lovely ring downstairs to
prove it?”
He grinned at me, happy with my
answer.
“You can keep Daddy too.” He told me.
“Coz I think you are allowed be married to two people.”
I kissed the top of his head and we both
of us looked out at our neighbour, surveying his surroundings and keeping an
eye on things.
Oh beautiful. I think I might love your almost five year old now too :)
ReplyDeleteYou have your own cutie pie!
DeleteOh lovely, lovely, lovely! I love little boys of that age: innocent sweetness coupled with undying love for their mammies! And well deserved too :)
ReplyDelete