It’s rather odd looking at the little person that is Alby
and thinking that one day he will grow up to have specific passions, skills,
interests and even a profession of his own.
Every day brings new personality traits, a new set if likes and dislikes
and a new set of sometime ridiculous, sometimes challenging behaviour.
So far Mark and I have whittled down Alby’s future career
into the following options:
- A nudist model for art classes – the boy honestly cannot stop strutting his naked self. I have a whole host of videos and photos of the Trouble Monkey getting up to silliness that I’d like to share but can’t because they are of him in the buff and no way do I trust the internet enough to post such. But the boy just loves being in his own skin and for the moment, I salute his lovely little bare butt.
- A dustbin man – ah yes, the favoured profession of many a young child. I remember wanting to be a bin man myself when younger. Alby spends at least 10 minutes every Friday morning standing on a window ledge waving at the bin men, pointing as the bins are lifted into the back of the truck and jabbering away as the recycling gets sorted, raised and tipped. He is completely and utterly mesmerised by it.
- An
artist – I often hear the claim that left handed people are arty. Well balderdash as I’m a lefty and don’t
have an inch of artistic talent inside of me. Alby on the other hand, who appears
right handed by the evidence shown so far, is developing a real love of
drawing. Every day for the past
week he has got out his crayons for a quick scribble not too incomparable
to some of the stuff I’ve seen in the Tate Modern. And today, as the end of term looms at
nursery, we were sent home with his portfolio – an impressive thing indeed
for one still so you and still so uncoordinated.
Clearly a master in the making - A stunt man – Trouble Monkey is a whirlwind of kamikaze craziness. About a month ago his favourite thing in the world was to bounce on the bed and then just fall face first into the mattress – no bend of the knees, no arch of the back just a full on face plant from which he would jump up giggling. Last night he treated us to his latest trampolining skill – jumping up and landing crossed legged on the bed. Who teaches him such I have no idea as I’m fairly certain there’s no trampoline at nursery. The best thing about his new move is the preparation before each jump – a series of very small bounces accompanied by deep breaths and a steely look, comparable to the lovely Johnny finding his happy place. When not jumping on the bed, Alby has other fun activities as demonstrated this evening when he spent twenty minutes throwing himself onto a beanbag.
His suicidal nature isn’t just
about body slamming soft furnishings though, as witnessed by his love of the
Daddy rocket…
In addition to
these he warbles a good tune, stomps a merry dance and will charge down any
puddle which dares try to stand in his way.
One of the memorable quotes from the speech my dad gave at our wedding
was: what do you get when you mix a meat
eating, rugby playing Army officer with a vegetarian liberal pacifist? Well dad, you get an Al-bug….
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