GOING FOR A WALK 15 Oct 2016

W/E 15th October 2016 Post 061

 

EWAN'S BLOG

GOING FOR A WALK

Hi, Ewan here again. I’ve had a very exciting week this week, as usual.

On Tuesday I was on the normal Grandad minding. As you know I don’t mind. I like to do my bit for society and give a little bit back.

He’s started coming to our house now at 7.15am of a morning. It does have the advantage that I am not harassed by mum or dad to get me out in the cold, wet and dark before I’m properly awake. But Mamma doesn’t come with him. Can you believe it. What a responsibility for a small mite like me.

Anyway this week I pretended to be asleep until mum and dad were gone. Mum has been under loads of stress this weekend and it was parents evening on Monday night, so I’ve learnt from dad to keep a low profile at such times.

Anyway, she left me in my cot assuming I was asleep. Once I was sure she was gone, about 7.30am, I made it known I was awake. I yelled, screamed and banged my cot. But grandad’s deafer than a… (I got grandad to look up similes for deafness on the internet, there were millions, well, at least six but all were very weak, so I did not use one. But he’s as deaf as an old deaf bloke.

He finally came tottering up the stairs, two or three hours later (I think, but numbers don’t mean much to me yet) at 8.00am.

“Have you just woken up, my little boy?” He says.

“No!!! Mr Tumble features I’ve been awake for hours and years.” I said.

Doesn’t matter that I’m rude – its only being honest to him – he don’t understand me and more importantly, he certainly can’t hear me.

So he carries me downstairs. He puts me down. I run into the kitchen yelling “Mamma! Mamma!”

I panicked as I finally accepted Mamma was definitely not here. Ok fair enough I had sole responsibility of my grandad, but who the *@#$ was going to prepare and give me my bottle?

But, fair dues, the old guy surprised me and came up trumps. Ok, there was no finesse of the warm cuddling up and relaxation in mamma’s soft, warm arms. It was a case of sit bolt upright on a bony knee, hold the bottle myself whilst watching Cbeebies “Justin’s House”. I would have preferred “Peppa Pig” on Channel 5, but I can manipulate him on most things but he seems to have crystal clear hearing and eyes of an hawk when it comes to remote controls.

Well I worked hard the rest of the morning keeping grandad occupied and happy and watching that he did not get into mischief. But then he said, “Shall we go for a walk to mamma’s house.”

The trouble is he is so old and senile, the poor old guy has forgotten what “walk” means.

To walk would be for both of us to put our feet on the floor, one foot in front of the other and go to mamma’s house. What grandad does is puts me in the pushchair, so I “RIDE” and he “WALKS”. I scream, I fight, and protest at being put in that pushchair. But he makes out he cannot hear or see me.

My mum and dad bought me some new Clarks shoes – I do not know what Clark’s means, must be important though mummy insists on them - they have red flashing lights when I “WALK “.They must be magic because you don’t even after to plug them in the electric socket or put batteries in. What a waste of twenty three thousand seven hundred and ninety one pound and thirty six pence. Well, they were a lot of money and I’m starting to understand numbers and I know that’s a lot of money. I know they were a lot of money because my mummy told me they cost a lot of money when I filled them with soil and then floated them in our paddling pool.

As people do not bother to take me for a walk I have to stamp around in my shoes to make them lihjt up. Consequently I shall end up with deformed legs and ankles. I just feel it in my bones.

So grandad put me in the pushchair. But because I’d had to constantly play with him throughout the morning. I was tired out and fell asleep. I don’t like to do that when I’m on grandad watch, but sometimes he tires me so much I can’t help it. I fell into a wonderful dream where I was at mamma’s and she was there to share the burden of looking after him. And it was one of those amazing dreams I get all the time. When I woke up I was living the dream. Yes, he had taken me to mamma’s and she was hugging me and feeding me and sorting grandad out.

What would the world be without mamma’s, grannies, nannies and grandma’s whatever they are called.

When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.

 

Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment

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