14 July 2009

A Fabulous Find!

“So, are you having anymore?” The girl asking the question nodded in my son’s direction. I followed her gaze as Chick, now one of the biggest boys at playgroup, practised his t-rex impression on all the babies, delighting in the way they vibrated, and then wailed, in their bouncy chairs.

“He’s a limited edition” I replied as I scurried off to apologise to all the mummy’s frantically cooing at the neat row of open mouths.

Once again, I explained to him the principles of pleasantness and how, if applied often, harmony and inner-peace would surely follow. Chick charged off towards the Rich Tea Fingers.

As he worked the biscuit lady in charge of distribution, I mulled over the ‘anymore?’ question which, lately, someone seemed to be asking me every day.

It had been over three years and, despite promises that I’d change my mind about never, ever, ever having a 10lb 1½ oz baby EVER again, I was still very comfortable with the idea.

Plus, Chickie’s energy levels were equal to that of three regular children and five springer spaniels.

But then came the ‘only child’ sympathy gaze. Wistful eyes would be cast over the little boy who faced a life of solitude because his mother was a wimp.

“He has friends round every day” I justified, but their expressions remained the same.

A few days later, my friend asked me if I might be able to have her son for the afternoon. Initially, I was scared. Two boys, co-incidentally born on the same day, in my sole charge.

So, that afternoon, Patrick was delivered. Looking a lot like Chick, but with glasses, he bid me a good afternoon. Chickie galloped around in circles, foaming at the mouth. Patrick excused himself to play trains.

Then the magic happened. The Patrick magic. His soothing, managerial style, a damper block to Chickie’s constant vibrations. It was the most peaceful afternoon I’ve enjoyed since Chickie gave up naps.

At 7pm, I reluctantly buckled Patrick into his car seat next to Chick. As we drove into the hills, Patrick directed us.
“Right at those arrows and then over there by the double garages”. He was so helpful.
“Mind that car” he added thoughtfully.

At the front door, Chickie and I tried not to cry as Patrick walked out of our lives.
“Thanks for having me” he chimed back over his shoulder.

Chickie began to sob. I bit my lip.

“How are you feeling?” I asked his mum.
“So so” she answered.
“I could have Patrick again tomorrow for you if you like?” Before she could answer I’d arranged collection.

Chick and I skipped back to the car, overjoyed with our discovery of the perfect ready-made twin!

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