Dave the Dad 16 - Report XSD74J9
Tom here. The two Lookerafterers assigned to me still haven’t worked out that babies are sent to Earth to work as scientists studying the planet.Although, despite the fact that he’s clearly subservient to the bossy female one, I did think the bald one twigged last week when he tried to kill me. The game he introduced was deceptively simple: during my evening bath he introduced a fluorescent green straw. Pretty! But I digress. Then, through some arcane magic, he poked this into the water and proceeded to use his mouth to make bubbles. I tell you, I cracked up. Haven’t laughed so hard since he pretended to be a monkey and jumped up and down on the sofa. He got told off for that. Also quite amusing. Now I have encountered this straw before as I’ve had great fun waggling it in the faces of passing dogs whilst out on my trike. But this new use came as a happy shock. As you can imagine I was desperate to try it so I took the straw, placed one end in my mouth, placed the other in the water and sucked for all my worth. I must admit the results were unsuccessful. Shortly after this I ‘lost’ this evil piece of witchcraft behind the toilet but if the male finds it he may try to trick me again.
Bathtime continues to be hilarious though; especially my new game of lying down and sliding in the slippery residue as the water drains. Dangerous, yes, and yet strangely intoxicating. As the water level falls I lie on my front and glide from one end of the bath to the other. The adults love it but then -double standards- become terribly animated when I plunge my face in the water in order to taste the bubbles. C’mon, why wouldn’t you? It’s almost as though they fail to understand the need to experiment. They looked pretty worried but I got so excited I nearly soiled myself. Luckily I was able to exercise control as I recalled the last time this happened. It’s not nice swilling around in a warm, frothy poo-soup [Addendum: The male adult agrees with this, or at least that was the impression I got as he lifted me from the bath and then climbed out himself]. All the same poo, per se, is pretty interesting if you can get your hands on a fresh, firmish lump.
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They keep buying things. Most of these are quite clearly for me, such as plastic swords (brilliant!) or fold away tunnels (amazing!) but I have also found that pretty much every item that enters the house can be easily prised away from their hands. Generally I like to point at the item repeatedly and look interested -a doddle! Once it comes within snatching distance I pounce and refuse to let go until I have, a) covered it with drool, b) bitten a piece of the corner off, or c) lost it. Occasionally the male tries to be all pushy and says ‘No. Daddy’s,’ whilst pointlessly attempting to prise it from me. At moments like this I employ the Screech Device that has been fitted in all Scientist babies and most species of large water mammal. I find this does the trick for he generally pretends that he’s decided that I can have it ‘for a little bit’ only to discover I’ve stuffed it under the sofa the minute he turns his head. Often he tries to tempt me with a different shape, repeatedly forgetting that I have two hands. Believe me, I’m not afraid of using them.
Last weekend we travelled to a magical place, a fairyland where everyone spoke like the little people from The Wizard Of Oz and water fell on your face the whole time: Wales. The adults whinged about the wetness and sprinted from doorway to tree as though it burned them. How wrong can you be! I personally thought it was fantastic news as I got to wear my brand new blue wellies with the penguins on. These creatures remain hilarious: black, white, feathers, they’ve got it all.
However, my studies show that they aren’t very high up on the social scale. I am gradually starting to piece this together but at the moment it appears to be: babies, Burmese cats, any dog, humans and then penguins. Dogs are a relatively new and yet massively important addition as they offer endless fun when you are being pushed along in your trike. In honour of the pivotal role I take in our family group I have been awarded a commemorative plastic sword. This has been given to me, I think, so that I can waggle it at passers-by and generally grab any dog’s attention when I am in the park, (cf. fluorescent green straws) although careful study has shown that I can also use it to halt our progress at any time.
It’s simple really: all I do is dig my sword into the floor as we travel along and Hey Presto! it slips under the front wheel thereby forcing us to grind to a shuddering halt. Amazing. In Wales I did this thirteen times in a row before one of the adults distracted me by pointing at a bird and flapping their arms. Idiots. However I somehow temporarily misplaced my sword and so resorted to another failsafe method. Place your feet on the floor and drag them ever so gently behind you. The first time I did this was very amusing as my female attendant shrieked, convinced that she had broken my ankle. I laughed so hard I soiled myself.
I’ll leave you with a fact so amazing that I find it hard to credit myself. The attendants have singularly failed to work out that we baby scientists are transmitting via one of their own tv channels. Every day as we pass and receive messages via Pingu they only ever smile, assuming the words to be meaningless garble. Nobody appears to have noticed certain inconsistencies, such as the fact that Pingu’s dad is clearly Welsh, or that his sibling looks nothing like him! Who knows, there may be some sense in moving penguins one notch up the scale after all.
Dave Fouracre
Dave Fouracre aka "Dave the Dad" is a regular feature writer here at thebabywebsite.com. Read more about his hilarious experiences as a Dad.
December 4 2006 |
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