August 09, 2005
Big Silver Bird in Sky
The visit of grandparents is something that will no doubt occur on many occasions throughout your life, and likely take many different forms.
Take, for example, the following case. Your Grandad and Fabulous Aunt Jann came over to look after you for a few hours on Sunday. Ostensibly, it was so that your mother and I could go and visit a lovely photographic exhibition, but I think there may have been an ulterior motive, namely your dad's giant TV and the Carlton game.
Your mum and I got home, after grabbing some food on the way, to find our house occupied by your Unky Dave as well. Luckily your father had had the foresight to buy a sixpack of lovely beer to go with lunch, so everyone was happy. It's this kind of shambolic happy coincidence of food and wine that makes weekends so fabulous sometimes. We all sat and talked and watched the footy (yes, punkin, Carlton lost) and ate and drank and laughed.
On its way now is an extended edition of that type of joy. Your grandparents, your cousin Declan, your Aunt Marie, your Great Aunt Anne, your mum and me, we'll all be spending time with you in the coming days. Your grandparents will be arriving on Thusday morning, which is two sleeps for me, but about 9 for you, and Declan and his mob will turn up on Monday.
No-one has to go to work, no-one has any other commitments. I forsee autumn walks in the park, I see going to the market, I see long lunches and sleeping in. I see you and Declan getting more than your fair share of snuggles and tickles, cuddles and kisses. I see the pop of flashbulbs and hear the whirr of cameras working overtime. I hear the pop of winecorks and the raucous laughter of extended families.
In short, punkin, we're going to have a ball.