Faris the Rascal (he is, as you know, the Eldest of the Rascally Trio) tells me that, come September, he will be a Flamingo. As in, Flamingo Class at school, you understand.
Does this mean, I want to know, that he will have to dress in pink and stand on one leg? The Rascal immediately demonstrates his ability to balance, flamingo-style, for my benefit. I reflect on the fact that, when required
to do the same as part of my training for the Run The One, I generally find myself clutching onto the climbing frame to keep myself upright. It’s a very good thing that I am not, nor never likely to be, a member of Flamingo Class.
This fascinating conversation is being carried out thanks to FaceTime which has stepped into the breach after the visit to ours planned for yesterday had to be sadly aborted when
the Middle of the Darling Daughters was alerted to a warning symbol on the dashboard of her car indicating a problem with “engine management.” She telephoned me, all apologies, to say she really felt she had better drive home rather than risk further
travel - and I was quick to agree. There will always be another time, I said. Faris was particularly disappointed because he was looking forward to making the Flowerpot People but: “We can make them next time we come,” he reassured me. Bless the
boy, he was more concerned about my disappointment than his own.
Still, with the help of FaceTime today I was able to show him and the Twins all the materials
I had gathered together for the manufacture of the Flowerpot People - the terracotta pots for their heads, the green or black pots for their bodies, the google eyes, the buttons, the arms and legs made out of small pots strung together with green string. Plus
the flowers to be planted in the top flower pots, in three different colours.
“Can I talk to Grandad now?” asked the Rascal, obviously having run out
of things to say about the Flowerpot People.
Grandad, known to you all as Mr B, was watching cricket - England playing India, in case you need to know -
but was pleased to take time out to talk to the Rascal, even though, unlike me, he didn’t have any props to show off.
Sad though I was not to see the
Rascally Trio yesterday, I think they may just have been in the best place, in their back garden splashing about in a Rascal-sized paddling pool. I’m sure it was cooler than it would have been modelling Flowerpot People in our back garden. I need to
invest in a new paddling pool if we are to have a Long, Hot Summer...
The Middle of the Darling Daughters tells me that the photographs of the Trio romping around
in the pool don’t tell the whole story. What with the complaints about being too wet (isn’t that the idea?) or getting splashed (ditto) or nobody obeying “The Rules” (there are no rules, not in Paddling Pool Land) you understand.
Back at home, I was trying to find ways of keeping Mr B cool and hydrated, recognising with regret that a paddling pool would have been a Step Too Far. The fan we bought
last summer was dragged out of the garage and proved to be worth its weight in whatever gold I paid for it - but getting Mr B to drink enough water was a challenge. Then I remembered - out in the freezer was a box of fruit lollies bought with the Rascally
Trio in mind. They were Just the Ticket.
Don’t worry, my Rascals - next time you come, we will make the Flowerpot Men for sure. The freezer will be replenished
with more fruity lollies. We will practise being flamingoes standing on one leg.
It will, as always, be SUCH fun...