The Great Mimic

My son left for work today. He was on his bike, with his rucksack on, waving goodbye having ceremonially given Mummy and Daddy a “kiss and a cuddle” and announcing proudly that he was “going to work”. He headed out into the garden, astride his “ride it, sit on” (balance bike) to do whatever great purpose he had been bestowed with that evening. My heart swells with joy to see him role playing and acting so maturely.

For context: I ride a bike to work. I have a rucksack that I take my work clothes in. I often say goodbye to my wife and son with a kiss and a quick cuddle. It has struck me that this may, to some extent, explain his behaviour. He has also taken to reading me Harry Potter, mowing the lawn and hanging out the washing. I think I may have spawned a mimic!

What I haven’t mentioned yet is that his ‘job’ – whatever it is that he thinks he’s being employed to do – only seems to last 5 seconds. And the end of his hard-worked 1/12th of an minute he comes back home expecting a hero’s welcome and to be yet again smothered with kisses and cuddles. It’s adorable.

The first time.

Maybe even the second time. But after the 12th time, even stooping to kiss the bundle of functioning cortex that grew from your tiny reproductive cells can test your limits.

It’s fascinating how rapidly a parent’s world can alternate between adoration and wonder at the rapid development of what is (clearly no longer) your little baby; and frustration and impatience at how you just want to cook him (and you) dinner because he’s about 15 mins from hitting that hunger wall and you DESPERATELY want to avoid it! The flipping between the two is exhausting in its own right. You can never quite hold the two views simultaneously, but they can co-exist so closely that it’s a bit like looking at stop motion video of the two blending into one.