two slash seven

Next Tuesday (the first of September) marks our seventh anniversary, or, to put it another way, our second wedding anniversary.  Also on the 31^st of August our beautiful daughter is 3 months old.

Yup, I’d say things are going well.  I actually couldn’t be happier*.  I can point to two memories which have that golden glow about them in my head from just the two years since the morning of our wedding – 1) walking to the reception, laughing and joking with my family and friends and 2) being handed a towel-wrapped, bright red baby… who promptly pooed all over the floor.

Matrimony, fatherhood – states I can recommend.  If you’re unable to be a father, motherhood is no doubt good too.  I’m not pressing these choices onto you, of course.  I’m not one of those people**.  I don’t think everyone should do it just because I think it’s great.  But if you’re considering it, and you’re not sure, I can chime in here and say – do what feels right.  When they’re the one, you’ll know.  The one you want to be with, the one you want kids with.

You’ll know.  I knew.

*Well… I could have Sky plus, I guess.  And a bit of sleep. Ooh, and a pony!

**I am a bit.

and... we're done.

We actually won! We won the Ashes!  And I was watching!  I actually looked up to see the last wicket being taken.  Woo!  Go England!

In even better news, E’s hip has been ultrasounded and is completely fine.  I know I hadn’t mentioned that there could be a problem, but there could and there isn’t so that’s cool.  She is as perfect inside as she is outside.  I just got in to work. When can I go back to her?

talking to boys

It’s amazing.  All my life I have disliked sport because, well, it’s boring and I don’t really care.  But thanks to maternity leave, I have a wife who has watched the cricket this summer with avid interest, and since it’s always on, I have been watching.

It’s a revelation.  Walk up to a group of men and start a conversation with something like “I can’t believe Flintoff was out for seven!  Seven!  Still, he really shouldn’t have been playing”. Or “Bopara’s finally been dropped from the squad – which is good, because he couldn’t handle it, but you have to feel for him, really”.  Or anything like that and you can just breeze on from there through an entire conversation.  Amazing, properly amazing.  It’s like we have something in common.  These same men who wouldn’t *ever* chat about Big Brother or America’s Next Top Model. It’s like that episode of The IT Crowd – “Did you see that ridiculous display last night?” – once you know the manly conversation shibboleth you’re instantly someone else.  You’re a man with opinions which can be listened to, and thought about, and commented upon.  Not just someone babbling about telly.

WHAT THE FUCK, world?  Why did I spend the last three decades ignoring sport?  I could’ve been doing this for years.

Perhaps posting on a friday afternoon is a mistake

I’m a bit tired.  Also I have a horrible sore throat.  I spent my lunchtime whizzing a friend’s baby daughter around outside a pub.  She’s 11 months old, so I felt a bit more willing and able to turn her upside down and run around with her held aloft.  I look forward to being able to chuck E about with such abandon.  I think she’ll enjoy it.

She took her first trip on the tube this week, on the Victoria line down to Oxford Circus, and then out to John Lewis.  She was very well behaved, all things considered, and it was a nice day out.  We even ate a cooked meal!  Us!  And I tried on slings, and then bought one.  Soon I shall be able to wander round with a baby attached like it’s no big deal.  Cool.

In the simplest terms..

John Hughes, 1950-2009.  Man responsible for The Breakfast Club, one of the defining films of my adolescence.  Defining film of millions of adolescences.  And Weird Science.  And Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.  And Planes, Trains & Automobiles.  And so on.  Man was a genius.

I’ve said it elsewhere, but I want to say it here.  If it caught you at the right time, The Breakfast Club spoke to you so clearly, like it was written for you, but it also seemed so universal, like it was written for everyone.  Which gave me the start of some kind of insight – no matter how isolated it feels, being a teenager, no matter how much you feel that this has only ever happened to you, it happens to everyone.  And here we all are.  Locked in a vacancy.

Man was a genius.

Fan-tastic!

Oh, man, Bookworm Adventures is back to take over our lives.  Forget having a baby, Bookworm Adventures 2 is the real time-hog. Oooh, can we get a better word than “froggiest”?  Is it worth using a blue tile on this guy or saving it for the boss?  WHEN WILL THE CHESHIRE CAT ACTIVATE??  Is the baby crying? Just put it in another room, it’s a boss battle!!!!1!!one!

That’s PopCap for you.  They can’t help but make great games.  Bookworm Adventures, Plants vs Zombies (though I’m finding that quite hard), Peggle, Peggle, Peggle Peggle Peggle Peggle, Chuzzle, Bejeweled, Peggle, Talismania…  I don’t begrudge them a penny I’ve spent on their games.  They are charming, addictive, clever and rewarding.

By the way, I am **JOKING** about the neglect.  We pay a great deal of attention to little baby E.