Come along for the ride!!

Monday, November 06, 2006

Remember, remember the 5th of November

Those paying close attention to the ramblings found here, might remember earlier this year when I won some tickets to go and see the Fimbles. We never made it because Missy decided to throw up all over the inside of the car and we had to explain to Joseph why we wouldn’t be able to go to the theatre (baby sick dripping from the roof and the back of my head clearly wasn’t enough of an excuse!!).

Anyway, since that day, Joseph has randomly mentioned how we were never able to go. You could be discussing what he wants for lunch when he suddenly looks over at you and says, “we couldn’t go to see the Fimbles ‘cos Annabel got sick; do you remember Dad?”

My point is that somewhere in his subconscious is a little marker which occasionally reminds him of this promised treat which has been left marked as “outstanding”.

With that in mind, I promised him some sparklers to celebrate Guy Fawkes Night. Unfortunately, these ended up being a bribe to behave following some out of character freaking on Joseph’s part. When my repeated threats to throw the sparklers in the bin fell on deaf ears, into the bin they went.

I remember being threatened with certain things when I was younger. “If you don’t stop arguing, we’re NOT going to Hastings!” my mum would say. We continued arguing and invariably we would still go to Hastings, albeit we would be in parental bad books. I think if my parents had waited for my brother and me to behave before setting off, we’d never have gotten anywhere!!

The point is, I remember that threats were often empty; not always but often. As mean as I make myself sound, I have found that threats work a whole lot better if you stick to them. With this in mind I binned the sparklers bending them in half for good measure.

Did I regret doing it? No.

Do I now regret it?


I’ll tell you why.

This morning I took him to breakfast club, we hung his coat and scarf up, took his bag of fruit from his bag and went in to sit down. I settled him down at the colouring-in table, he chose a picture of two pigeons on a bird table and said, “look Dad, they haven’t got any sparklers”.


As I drove away from his club, our fateful trip to the Fimbles came back to me and I thought how much he must regret not seeing something that was built up over several weeks that never then materialised.

I don’t want that to happen again.

“Hello there, can I have another packet of sparklers please?”


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