Yesterday was one of those almost perfect days. Everything went to plan. An early walk through autumnal parkland. Stunning colours. Early enough that we had the place to ourselves. No need for anxious glances at strangers. A wonderful wide ranging conversation with no distractions.
If you had one of the escaped Jurassic World dinosaurs, how would you disguise it when you took it for a walk?
Why is the Easter Bunny a rabbit and not a mole or lamb or donkey?
Why do footballers dive?
Can you hear explosions in space?
Who would win a battle between a 30ft T-Rex and a 30ft John Cena?
Is there anything in the world that Bear Grylls wouldn’t eat? Could it be Brussel Sprouts?
How would we cope if numbers had not been invented?
Then a day at home. No phone calls. No knocks at the door. No visitors in the neighbours gardens, A day filled with trampolines, playing ball with the dog, Top Trumps, Lego building, water pistol fights and an old ScoobyDoo movie.
A completely relaxed and contented son. No anxiety. No meltdowns. No worries about fitting in. Just happy and laughing.
I said it was almost perfect. Just two improvements.
I just wish his mum was here to join in. And…
It’s a privilege to spend such quality time with my son. I can’t think of anything else I would rather do. But I just wish one day that I can look out of the window and see our son having a similarly wonderful time …. playing regularly with someone his age. Not having to play with his boring old dad. With someone he can call his best friend. That would be the perfect day.