Happy Fathers

 

We are very nearly back to normal. Tyler is fulltime in the bakery which was very busy last week, the kids are in their final two weeks of school, the house is slowly getting back to civilized standards and I'm really enjoying spending half the week at home and half the week in the bakery. Contrary to the rest of the world, I now love Mondays. 

 

Tyler is getting stronger day by day although he's still dealing with a pinched sciatic nerve and a rather haywire body (no electrolytes, for example). He enjoyed Fathers Day yesterday however: He got to sleep in, have breakfast cooked for him and then go for a lovely snorkel a Brewers Bay, where he saw a moray eel and a barracuda followed by a picnic supper on the beach. We were all in bed by 9pm. Bliss.

Nothing like a major trauma to make one appreciate all that one has. I'm not a sentimental person at all (my Mother's daughter indeed) but I did enjoy the cosy reaffirmation of Fathers Day yesterday: The benign indifference of the children; the need to nag them to make their father a card and then to remind them to give their Dad a hug in the morning. Tyler graciously pretending that the children had got him the snappy Cressi Crystal Mask he wanted and the children momentarily shamefaced because they hadn't, but hustling for some chocolate anyway. A typical Fathers Day in our household, then.

Last night as I came down to pour myself a glass of water - after Tyler had already put the dog out and switched off all the lights, I could hear the hum of the dishwasher and smell the warmth of the laundry coming up from the basement, in the dark. I felt a surge of contentment, a real happiness that has often been elusive before and I am very grateful for this.

Although there is a constant sense of fighting a losing battle against the sheer volume of damp papers emerging out of children's backpacks, little boy's bathrooms and the light fingered-ness of curious children - just about the only thing that really is sacred anymore is the normality of our everyday domesticity, happy fathers and our continued good health.

Long may it all last.

 

William had just following off a rather large rock. Brothers don't look too concerned