I died 200 times…

Today I died repeatedly. Perhaps not as many as 200 times, but it certainly felt like it!

After a lovely afternoon with Niece (when I discovered this newly 3-year-old can operate my laptop to choose and play her next Kipper cartoon on Youtube!!!) I helped pick up Neff from school. He was in an amazing mood and wanted to play bikes when we returned to his home. He’d been given candy-in-a-gun by my Sister, and used the empty gun bit to pretend to shoot me.

After a while, I copped on that what he really needed was some rough and tumble and to get some of his exuberance out, so, to please him (and because secretly, deep down, I haven’t really grown up and it was hilarious) I fell to the floor and pretended to be dead. To say he was overjoyed would be an understatement.

Over the next 40 minutes, I fell to the floor countless times, countless ways up, with him occasionally coming to jump on top of me, pin me down, shoot my eyes and ears and teeth out, or hold me still so his little buddy could run me over with the go-cart. He giggled constantly in that lovely way boys have when they’re having the most amazing time. We shouted and whooped at each other and occasionally if he electrocuted me too much, I turned into a zombie and chased him for a while.

I tellya, I can’t see how I can fail to get fit if I keep doing this kind of thing! Car-parks are made for playing in, right? They have places which provide cover from stray candy bullets, they’re not muddy (so you can roll around on the floor as much as you’d like) and they have lovely tarmac for bikes and cars. And if you have chatting bystanders to watch for incoming vehicles, you can just play and play.

Later I showed him how to pretend to puke, which he did for about 15 minutes straight. Once I pretended to wipe off the invisible sick and smear it back on him. He came up with an invisible bucketful and drenched me. He’s so inventive.

He calmed down for a bit when he realised there was a new movie to watch. He eventually crawled onto my lap and placed my arm firmly around him, holding it there so I couldn’t let him go (or drink my tea, but hey). We both were appalled when ‘Dave’ threw all his musical instruments out in the garden, and both screamed with laughter when the chipmunk in the hat farted in his face.

It was brilliant, awesome, snuggly boy time, and I get more this weekend because he’s coming for dinner for the first time. We’re going to have salami stew and dumplings (his choice – I’ll invent something) and I bought some jelly today in advance. Unsure if he liked it, I whispered in his ear halfway through the film “Do you like pink jelly?” he turned and whispered back “Yes. Shall we have it on Saturday after dinner? Don’t tell anyone!” *phew*

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