Monday, June 13, 2011

Cooly Rocks On

It's been a while since you've all seen Jack. Sadly, he's been hanging with the wrong crowd at school, and getting into a bit of trouble. On the plus side, some of the bad habits he's picked up are pretty profitable. He's bought himself a Harley!


Apparently he's been running numbers at school, and has his own hired goon to do his dirty work. When you owe Jack, you pay... or you might get a little visit from Lulu...


Don't let the kitty-cat beanie fool you. She's not to be messed with. I'm the pillion passenger here!


Still, can't complain. He took us all out yesterday to Cooly Rocks On, a 50s hot-rod and rock'n'roll festival at Coolangatta. Nikki was stunning!


But she had to get her chores done before we could go. Jack didn't want to come home to a messy house (something about some business associates coming around).


The weather was a bit iffy, so eventually we strolled back to the car along the beach before the rain returned.





'Course there's always time a for a quick beer...


Good day had by all...

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Daddy, you're a cashew

 You can't afford to be thin-skinned if you're a parent. My kids like to remind me this important rule. Last night at the dinner table, Mr Four-Years-Old said "Mummy, you're a peanut, because I like peanuts better than cashews." Awww, what a lucky Mummy. What a sweet boy. Wait, wait, here comes some more sugar: "Daddy... you're a cashew."

Now, a number of thoughts spring to mind. Firstly, he does like cashews, so it's not all bad. And I prefer cashews, so all good there. Also, those few whose company I keep would be quick to apply less flattering metaphors. So, at the risk of provoking further enunciations of my position in the household popularity stakes, should I thank him for his honesty? Should I congratulate my wife on her status? Or should I be seizing the opportunity to instruct the boy on the niceties of social interactions? Perhaps he may yet avoid the worst of the defective "work and play well with others" gene passed from father to son in my family.

Nah, bugger it. Quips like that will serve him well in life. Maybe a little high-brow for his playground mates, but a polite slap in the face is still a slap in the face, and all the more disarming for the delivery. If only I would sugar-coat my critiques of others so well...