Walking home from school, Young James is enjoying the company of another James. For the sake of clarity, we will call him James the Older.
James the Older congratulates Young James on the fact that today is his birthday. Young James accepts the congratulations graciously.
"You are five," says
James the Older, "I am seven." Young James thinks about this but keeps his counsel. "One day," James the Older tells him magnanimously, "You will be seven too!" My James beams with gratitude. His pleasure is short lived: "Of course," James the Older delivers
the killer blow, "Then I will be NINE!" There is no arguing with that.
I love meeting the boys from school. I love the tiny glimpses of their school life which
I can glean just by being there. The list of playground rules on a prominent board. "We will be friendly and kind to each other." Of course we will.
bigger boys were at school, I had the pleasure of the company of Morgan. Regular readers may recall that I call him Morgan the Flirt on account of the way he wields his long, long eye lashes and enormous dimples to capture the hearts of any female who comes
within sight of him. His father, My Boy, calls him Tiger. His other Grandad calls him "Wrecker." It isn't hearts he is talking about...
I have spent the
weekend trying to teach Morgan to say "Nanna". Easy enough, don't you think. I am sure he could say it if he wanted to. He is teasing me, I know he is...
is with delighted with his presents. Having spent a happy morning shopping with the Darling Daughter in Law, I am well pleased with his reaction to Junior Monopoly and a remote controlled motorbike. Morgan, it has to be said, was not too sure about the
latter. It is the first time I have seen Master Super Confident looking bothered and bewildered.
We enjoy a fish and chip supper, followed by birthday cake
and the compulsory singing of Happy Birthday. We light the candles several times so that both Sam and James have chances to blow them out. Happy Birthday, James, I am so glad I got to share your birthday fun.
I am, however, running out of time to get Morgan to say "Nanna". I point to myself for the umpteenth time: "Who is this?" I ask him. Morgan gives me the sweetest of smiles, points at Mr B and says, quite distinctly: "Gan Da!"
Don't you just love that boy?!