March 22, 2005

Destruction Derby

It is difficult to know, punkling, where to begin on this occasion. Everything around me feels like it’s on hiatus. Everything, it seems is waiting for something else, which is waiting for something else.

It’s that way at work, and it’s that way at home. It’s frustrating, being a man, feeling like you’re supposed to take charge and drive change, and then realising that there’s nothing to grab hold of. That there’s no way to impose one’s will on processes and timelines that are outside your control.

Partly, at this stage, I’m talking about you. I’m talking about the fact that I feel like, in the wake of all of the frenetic activity of the last 7 months, that I’m ready for you to get here now. I know that, about two hours after you arrive, I’ll be feeling the exact opposite, but right now I’m confident that we have all of the requisite kit, and that you could roll up tomorrow and there’d be no problem.

Being a man, of course, this is how I view the situation. I say to myself “I have purchased all relevant equipment and assembled it according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Nothing can go wrong now.”.

This is a total fallacy, which has been exposed over and over and over again by our two previous young, precocious, misbehaving, very cute when they put their minds to it children, Purdey and Kudra. These two, having taken careful stock of the multitude of attempts I have made at curtailing their daytime activities, have thoughtfully proceeded to break and destroy everything they can lay their paws on.

It is my fervent wish that your explorations into the break and destroy sector are not as adventurous as your canine siblings, (I’m fairly sure that, no matter how many baking dishes you break, you’re not going to enter into actual building demolition on the scope that they have) but I’m confident that you will at least make the attempt.

I am also aware that this feeling of losing the agenda setting power will be one that will stay with me for a long, long time. I’m hoping that sometime in my early 50’s I will again be able to decide who goes where when and does what.

Until then,


Love you.

3 comments:

rowdygrammy said...

Well Possum,
As we all know, you will come in your own good time, and you will be your own person.

It is a wonderful thing for a parent to see their child becoming a parent. Your parents are now to the stage where they (especially your mother) are ready for you to arrive. Everyone is anxious to see you and hold you. And you are just hanging out, execising those strong limbs (as your mother knows well), and getting ready.


Your Grandad Phil and I are counting the days until we come to visit.

I should tell your dad that once you have a child you aren't ever in control again (even if you are over fifty), but that would just depress him.
But I will tell your parents that all of their fears are normal, that they will be wonderful parents, and that you will be beautiful and strong.
with love your Grammy Linda

Paul said...

It's an interesting concept. This idea of being in control, of having everything in place and operating correctly.

It's interesting to sit there, in the middle of your living room, content and secure in the peaceful knowledge that you have done everything that you can, that any more movement on your part may well knock your immaculately laid plans off kilter.

It's interesting to say to the world, "That's it. No matter what happens, I have that couch thing sorted!"

It's interesting because, it never, ever works like that. One of the things about the world, pumpkin (I'd rather address you by your correct name, but as long as your sex remains indeterminate, so does your name), is that no matter how hard you plan, no matter how hard you fuss and fidget, no matter how many scenarios you rush through in your mind, no matter how prepared you believe yourself to be, it's inevitable that the universe will choose the one single, tiny, inappropriate thing that you could never in a million years have considered.

But you probably won't have to worry about such bizarre concepts for a good 8-10 years. Your parents on the other hand...

And with that, he was gone, with both a smile and a wave...

TheGestator said...

That'd Be Right, The Second I Send You An Email Stating That A. I Love Your Work. And B. The Site Won't Let Me Post.. It Decides To Let Me Post So..Um.. Check Your Email ! :)