Tuesday, 2 January 2018
So that was Christmas. Little G got the bicycle she desperately wanted, and has spent a lot of time riding round the small grassy island outside the local cathedral. A few falls have also occurred, but give her her due, she has got up and got straight back on.
Mind you, she has a helmet to protect her, as they all do nowadays. I remember 'back in the old days' one fell off a bike, bashed various body parts, and that was life. I still carry the scars of a very nasty fall, age 7. Meanwhile, Small loves watching her ride, and gets very excited and wavy as she passes him, feet pedalling furiously.
But Christmas has been, and it has gone, and any sensible small person fixes their gaze upon the next big event. So it is with Little G, who is now eyeing up the approaching celebration of her fourth birthday. Actually, the next big event is You Must Be Mad's birthday, but apparently that is of secondary importance.
'It's my birthday soon,' she tells me when we pop round to see them, post Christmas.
'I think it's your mum's birthday first,' I say.
Little G waves this irrelevant information away with the contempt it merits.
'Yes, but I'm going to be FOUR!' she tells me earnestly.
She also informs me that she is having an 'Alice in Wonderland/Princess' Party. The second was what she originally wanted. The first is You Must Be Mad's idea. The usual hard won compromise has been reached. We have been given our orders: L-Plate Grandad will make his famous egg sandwiches, and I will try to stop Small from messing up the games, and getting trampled underfoot.
At some point in the proceedings, Little G will ingest too much cake, morph into Sugar Baby and stomp upstairs in tears ~ mind, this assumption is based purely on the past three birthdays.
'What happens after your birthday?' I ask her.
Little G ponders for a nanosecond.
'Small's birthday,' she says. 'Then it will be Christmas again.'
That's how we roll.