Good afternoon Negative Soundbyters and what a scorcher of an afternoon it is! It also happens to be a bank holiday weekend here in the UK which means that there will be a lot of sore and fuzzy heads that don’t need to navigate the dreaded Monday morning commute post Sunday night’s festivities.
My day has been relatively productive. Mrs H is having visitors over next week so I was out with the electric clippers sculpting my hedge with the sort of precision you would expect at the Chelsea Flower show. I wish – if I managed one straight line that was a result.
At least this time I did not cut the cord with the clippers as I did on two occasions when I last took the job on. That irritated me no end. There I was trying my hardest to make a clean line of the top of the hedge; something distracted me and “zap”, some smoke and a small spark - and the cable now lying in two!
However I was not to be defeated. I stripped the cord and reattached the blue wire and the brown wire with some tape. Miraculously I did not electrocute myself in the process or short out the entire neighbourhood when I turned the clippers back on. Re-energised I started shaping the hedge borders with a Picassso-esque flourish only to tangle myself momentarily in the cord – and, yes you guessed it…”zap”, smoke and a small spark. That just about put me over the edge; thankfully Mrs H was on the scene almost immediately with a cold beer, a cool cloth to drape over my sweaty brow and some soothing words about how I should consider draping the cord over my shoulder so it stays away from the blades!
Who says husbands don’t listen to their wives because I heeded her advice and I managed to cut the hedge this time without having to resort to my very rudimentary skills in the electrician’s department! Mrs H you legend!
What of the world around us; anything of geopolitical significance to report?
One thing that caught my eye was that tanker that managed to collide with a very large US naval vessel just off the coast of Singapore. I do ask myself that will all the technology available to the world’s most sophisticated navy, how does something like this happen? And this is the second time there has been a collision involving this destroyer! We can detect missiles raining down on our ship from those pesky North Koreans, intercept and destroy them, but we can’t avoid a large boat-shaped object that isn’t travelling at Mach 4 moving gently into our path. Er? Say What? And then it’s the tanker to blame because they didn’t detect the destroyer. Um but the destroyer is designed to move around the high seas undetected and to scramble radar signals because well – it’s a warship and it needs to be able to throw off the enemy. I’m thinking what about some genius on the bridge of the warship putting out a radio message to the tanker’s captain or firing a flare into the night sky or turning on its lights or dare I suggest it, but move out of the way – I mean like WTF? You can imagine the conversation The Donald had the with that Vice-Admiral who presided over this fiasco. I bet it went along the lines of “You’re FIRED!”
And with The Donald’s dulcet tones ringing in our ears let’s move on to this week’s anecdote.
Big love
Hoddy X
Bath-time.
Not mine mind you although I do love a good soak at the end of a long, hard day in the swamp; some oils, maybe a candle, an ice-cold beer and even the iPad set up with my favourite Netflix show….er Hoddy, calm yourself there; those occasions are now in the past. There is only one bath-time that you need concentrate on for the next few years….and it’s….RAFE’S!
This is definitely right up there as one of a “New-Dad”’s biggest challenges – bathing your new-born and trying not to drown him! When Mrs H handed me the reins in this department I was a tad nervous it must be said. But I put my big-boy face on and said with confidence to Mrs H, “No problem; I’ve got this….” If I had stuttered and looked uncertain I would have been banned from bath-time so I needed to man up! DO IT Hoddy!
So Rafe and I are on the changing table. I have just run his bath; I had to triple check with Mrs H that I had it at the right temperature. Giving Rafe third degree burns or frost bite would not have gone down well; better be safe and get the green light from the government. Check.
I start undressing him. We have a bit of a chat about our respective days. I tell him about a new real estate deal I am working on and he fills me in on the day’s breast feeding. He is fairly calm up to this point. I think babas love being naked; it’s how they were born. He kicks out his legs and his arms flail but he’s got a smile on the dial and we are all set. I move with haste to our en-suite because his pee-pee is exposed and that sometimes leads to an incident which Mrs H would not be appreciative of given the high pile carpet under our feet and the White Company linen-laden bed between us and the bathroom entrance. Thankfully Rafe is on my wave length; he nods in my direction: “Don’t worry “New-Dad” I got your back.” “Thanks Son.” Check.
I kneel in front of the plastic bathtub and look to position Rafe as Mrs H demonstrated to me when we did a dry run the previous evening. For some reason Rafe senses my uncertainty (babas have a sixth sense for weakness) and decides that he’s had enough of giving me an easy ride, and starts squirming and wriggling like an eel loose on a slippery deck. And for good measure he starts winding up the air raid siren!
You can imagine how quickly the panic set in. I’ve got a frog-in-a-blender in one hand; I’m trying to use the other hand to sponge him down; I’m trying to placate him with my best “New Dad” soothing voice; all the while petrified that I am going to accidentally drop him in the tub and drown him. (because New-Dads always extrapolate to the worst possible outcome!)
I am like shag this; I pull him from the soapy waters, grab a towel and high tail it for the nursery.
Back on the changing table Rafe lies back with a little smile as I do baby massage and apply a baby-styled lotion to his skin. “New-Dad, that wasn’t so bad. Next time I would like a little longer in the tub and if you could notch the temperature up a few degrees that would be much appreciated. You missed a spot…..aaaahhhhh much better!”
OUT :)
Pic of the Week:
That's not a bad effort for a man with very inexperienced green fingers!
