Tuesday, April 28, 2015

The Vikings are coming!


A couple of years ago small was getting the hang of talking, generally mixing his sentences with half English and half German and a bit of nonsense (I can't even do that now!) It took a considerable amount of patience from him and us to understand what he was on about, or indeed what he wanted, for most of the time..

As with all kids, the boys learned their language skills from listening to Mum and Dad, in our house I always speak English and Mrs S. always Swiss German.

As a direct result of having me as one of their parents the boys have unfortunately picked up one or two...how shall we say...fruity words, which sometimes spice up the conversations at inopportune moments. Therefore I have had to take it upon myself to correct and administer warnings where appropriate in using "Grown-up words".....

Anyhow, around this time a favourite TV show for both the boys was Mike the Knight, a cartoon where a young fearless knight rides across the kingdom with his pals, vanquishing all manner of beasts and sometimes Vikings. Big and small took to dressing up as knights and would practice vanquishing teddy bears, cushions, ladybirds and unfortunate visitors to our house with the help of some foam swords and a dressing up set, sent over from Nana in England.

This particular afternoon the boys were vanquishing the cushions on the sofa and I was writing some music in my office keeping an eye and ear on proceedings. After a rather violent battle in which on of the cusions got utterly destroyed, small was stomping around the lounge in his little knights helmet and plastic chain mail, waving his sword and shouting at the top of his voice "Got you, You fuckin', you fuckin, Got you"

On hearing this, I leapt out of the office and dealt a swift bollocking to small, who retired to his room to have a cry...

Satisfied that I had dealt with the latest outburst of "language" I sat back down in the office as a very folorn Big entered, dragging his foam sword along the floor, with his helmet tucked under his arm, he looked at me and said "Pa, why did you shout at small for getting the vikings?"

Vikings? I said..

Yes, we pretended the cusions were vikings and we got them...

"Got you, you viking, you viking, got you"

Oh bugger.........

Could I feel any worse?


Wednesday, April 15, 2015

The Bum-Bum Dance




There is a particular type of "Dad Dance" known as the "Arse and Elbows" that has been fully embraced by our household, modified ever so slightly from the original whereby one would bend ones knees, stick out the arse and elbows and dance around like a chicken..

We have added an essential couple of ingredients and now sway the arse from left to right in a faux twerking style move whilst shouting "Bum-Bum-Bum, look at my Bum-Bum"
It's pretty slick, I'm sure you'll agree...Don't judge, just try it!

Anyway, this dance tends to materialise at shower time every evening with both BIG and small enthusiastically Bum-Bum Dancing around the house shouting the words at the top of their voice, God knows what the neighbours must think?.....

It's the Easter holidays over here and the little ones get 3 weeks holiday!
Yes, THREE WHOLE WEEKS...
To break it up a bit, that means a trip to the now regular school holiday Swim Course.

I hated swimming as a kid but learnt anyway and will swim if I have to....
Despite my reservations of swimming as a form of exercise or relaxation I do partake, weather permitting, as we are blessed over here with many, many beautiful clean, clear fresh water lakes, rivers, open-air pools and brooks (one of which runs through our garden) in which to spend the summer months splashing around or having BBQs nearby.....

And so it seemed only right that, surrounded by so much water and possessing zero fear of said water in any form, the boys should learn to swim well as soon as possible. Rather than risk the insanity of trying to teach them ourselves, the wife and I enrolled them in a swim school and I have to say that they have been brilliant, both passing their first two grades last year.

Day 3 of our latest Swim School and, as usual, I'm ushering two excited boys into the changing rooms and into swim gear before showering and hitting the pool. I get them changed eventually then shepard them into the shower area before a quick change for myself BUT this time, upon returning to the shower room... I find BIG doing just what he's supposed to, having a good rinse.. and in the empty space that should contain small I find am empty pair of swim shorts on the floor...

Just as the words "Oh Fuck, Noooo!" leave my mouth, I hear a loud, proud and hearty "Look at my Bum-Bum!" emanating poolside accompanied by the laughter of many, many adults &
children...

"He's doing the dance isn't he Pa?" says BIG




Nevermind the Bollocks....



Wednesday to Sunday touring hard with the band, 
Monday and Tuesday baking hard for Kindergarten!

After a particularly busy week touring the new album, staying up much too late, emptying the mini bar with the sound engineer and enjoying the uninterrupted luxury of my hotel suite and week of lay-ins in a super king-size bed without being woken by small people thrusting Lego up my nose. I returned home to my wife, boys and a pile of ingredients...

I should never have admitted to being good at making cakes, as now I seem to be emergency cake maker for every occasion!

This occasion happened to be a belated Birthday party for small at his Kindergarten, it seems to be the custom here to take cakes for all the little people to eat or rub into the carpet on a Birthday but, as usual, both the Mrs and I forgot to get anything for him to take...

So, here I am then, Road -worn, tired and hungover with a Jamie Oliver apron on, making fairy cakes that "Look like a cat dun a poo on 'em, Papa!"

Thanks son!


Tuesday, April 14, 2015

The "Train Burp" Thing



I didn't really mean this particular element of my parenting skills to come to light in quite such a public manner, nevertheless I was powerless to stop the eager to please energy of small...

As any father may care to admit (possibly only amongst male friends), the first conscious, attention seeking "BURP" from your offspring is a fine moment. A moment that consolidates all of the time spent over the breakfast / lunch / tea table teaching the small ones what is, or indeed is not, deemed funny.

In our household burping and farting is pretty damned hilarious, at least it is from the "English" side, and that's down to me BTW. Anyhow, this is probably due to my growing up riveted to such masters of the art as Rik Mayall / Ade Edmonson and others from the wonderful Comic Strip presents,  The Young Ones,  Bottom,  Filthy Rich & Catflap etc...

BIG being 18 months older than small had this particular skill down pat from a remarkably early age and interestingly possessed the awareness that his Mami finds it not at all funny, but Papa and his mates on the other hand, think it's really rather hilarious....

And so it was with ever increasing frustration that, try as he might, small just couldn't muster a BURP!  He would even resort to trying to vocalise the sounds in order to raise a smile from BIG or I, poor little man...

On one hot summers afternoon last year, we three were travelling into the capital on one of our extremely efficient, clean, train services. The train was absolutely packed full of people, tourists, businessmen/women, students, OAPs, mountain bikers, hikers...you get the picture.

The boys revel in such an atmosphere, it's the perfect arena for them to show off and get as much attention as they can, I've no idea where they get such traits! ;)

They are generally very well behaved and limit their attention seeking to looking people dead in the face and giving them a sweet smile and engaging them in conversation, which they'll try first in English and then in German, this always raises a smile in the sternest of people.
On this particular afternoon BIG was happily chatting away to a young lady next to me about something or other and small was standing on a seat opposite me, reading a newspaper over a businessman's shoulder. All was well in the world and we had an planned exciting afternoon shopping at the huge toy store in the city, as a reward for them passing their first swimming grades a week before.

As the train pulled out of the station before our stop, small shouts to me from across the isle "Oi,  Papa!" and with a look that can only be described as absolute triumph, lets rip the deepest and most resonant BURP I have ever heard....

As silence descends upon the train and all eyes turn to me and small, BIG excitedly exclaims ...

"Shit Papa!, that was awesome wasn't it?"


Rock 'n' Roll Dad.