Thursday - 02Jul15
We had our first real bike crash today; well Dylan did - I'm reasonably well-versed in the fine art of crashing a bike in fact just last Sunday... Anyway, he went round a corner a little bit too quick and the back end came out. In fact two important lessons were learned in this incident. The first was Dylan learning that when Daddy says slow down he does actually mean it and Daddy needs to be not quite so blase about small child heading towards a reasonably busy road at speed on his Puky bike.
Now before anyone gets too excited about that it is on the way home from school and on a route we do three times a week - and he's very good on his bike and I'm normally a bit more with it. As it was I was feeling under par having had to go running** two days on the trot and so my legs were complaining at me. So he got further ahead from me than normal and being a stubborn little toad didn't listen when I (repeatedly) suggested (at volume) that he might want to slow down. Oh well. He almost made it round the corner and it's amazing how fast you can move when you need to (and how fast ones reactions can be given I managed to stop him doing too much damage by hauling on his collar - clearly kids clothes are made of sterner stuff than any of my t-shirts!). He's fine. Just a scraped knee although he was quite shocked at the sight of the blood. And he's back on the bike again. So all good.
Other than that he's fine. We had our annual appointment with his surgeon who seems very happy with him. Although he did have to have an x-ray just to check that his diaphragm is still there and because I'm a mean and cruel parent I did that the same day he had his jabs (MMR and something else - one in each arm). We've not had any feedback from the x-rays as yet. The jabs (or the effect) was interesting. We had been warned that they were quite nasty and that most little ones get quite upset by them. There were three in front of us at the doctors. One (Eastern European) boy was absolutely hardcore, one little girl was being brave but clearly unimpressed and then an Asian little boy completely in floods. Dylan - silly b*****r - refused to be distracted by the iPad and watched rapt as they stabbed him. Needless to say there were tears before bedtime but not for long.
We are mildly concerned to discover that Dylan has a three year old daughter called Alice. She spends quite a lot of time in the pub when she's not on the train to Africa with Grandma. In fact I was slightly off-put when one of the Mum's at Dylan's school asked whether Dylan had any siblings as clearly he had been taking about this at school and one of his harem had mentioned it to their parents. And the teachers... This is clearly a boy with some imagination as he announced one morning that "I can't have my second breakfast as I need to clean up the ant poo with this feather". And no, I'm not making that sentence up.
He's discoverered whispering although he does sometimes forget to make some sound which means that Mummy and Daddy need to learn how to lip read. One of his favourite phrases is "too bored" whenever he's decided that he doesn't want or like something (as in "don't want a bath; too bored"). But he has discovered Lego and likes it. Which is a Good Thing.
He's just a three (n a bit) year-old. Same as the rest - although noticably less sociable!
** Running is evil. Cycling, that's the thing. Unfortunately the Mother decided to own a car which is not so easy to fit a bike into. And it needs some TLC. So I had to take the car to the garage and then get home (running). Then the next day I had to pick the car up again (running). So really Dylan's accident is all the Mother's fault. And there go any brownie points I may have accrued in the last three and a bit years!
