The excitement of the return to trampolining lessons spurred the full register of Cheetahs, Banana People and Dinos to leap out of bed (unlike me) and prepare themselves with a breakfast of weetabix and passion fruit (of course) ready for the early morning trip to Gosling Sports Park in Welwyn Garden City. The enthusiasm was such that they all got out their own cars and strapped themselves in rather than just bundling in with us.
The usual running commentary from their keeper was however curtailed by the spotting, very early on into the journey, of a Lamborghini Murcielago and resulted in the rest of the journey (we’re talking the best part of 6 miles) being turned into the Lamborghini chant/song ie “Lamborghini” repeated over and over and over again. It’s a good word … (and a pretty tasty car too)
Our normal ‘spot’ this time of a Sunday morning is for Eddie Stobart trucks – a pastime in which the keeper, his sister and the Cheetahs take great enjoyment.
The Eddie Stobart Song: “Eddie Eddie Eddie Stobart, Eddie Eddie Eddie Stobart, Eddie Eddie Eddie Stobart,He’s got lots of trucks, DOOBIDOO” ( think Glory Glory Hallelujah)is a firm favourite so the Lambo song was a break from the norm – and the cheetahs didn’t even get checked for out the window. Poor Cheetahs.
It transpired that the excitement of trampolining turned out to be a bit of a damp squib in the end – when you’re small enough to live in shoes, the holes in the webbing that makes the trampoline ‘bed’ are big enough to fall through. Ah, hadn’t thought of that one although I’m sure the Cheetahs managed last term. Still the opportunity to run round and round a trampoline seemed to make up for the lack of jumping and did make for interesting viewing for the rest of the parents. The Cheetahs and Dinos were clear winners, Giles next, then me (not a pretty sight!) and the Banana People last. The Banana People were far too interested in the bouncy castle and using their springy feet to bounce all the way up to the ceiling.
After this and the normal Sunday morning trip to Tesco’s, the family then got their Sunday luxury of picnic lunch with the F1 racing cars. Much discussion over whether Jensen Button would get his trophy to take home, or whether he had to give it back – and what were the racing drivers doing with those big water pistols (champagne!) and why were they getting each other and everyone else wet? Oh, and any chance I could email Father Christmas to ask for a new Scalectrix set with red and green cars as he (Giles) has been cleaning his teeth so nicely. I’m not sure I entirely agree with ‘nicely’ however, I appreciate that when having your teeth clean makes your reflux, conceding to the whole process is a pretty big deal – but nicely? Hmm – I think that may depend on whether red and green scalectrix cars are available on ebay.
And so to bed – very early after a very refluxy afternoon and flat refusal to eat. Part of the parenting programme that kicks in when you bring children into this world is that you have to feed them at regular intervals. Them refusing to eat is something that should then send you, the parent, into a whirl of stress, self doubt and general frustration, especially if you’ve broken the 20minute rule (which states that the greater the time spent on preparing a meal the less chance there is of your child eating it – anything over 20minutes and you’re asking for trouble). Now we’re getting to the stage that we put it on the table and if he eats it, all well and good, if not, well so be it. I’m not prepared to turn it into a flashpoint and suspect that after a day at school he’ll be coming home ready to eat the curtains.