It's a new milestone in the @blanchy household this week as the youngest is starting school tomorrow. We have two and the oldest is this 8 year old genius girl who was reading books at 3 and could name off country by their flag in the world at 4. Something says the boy won't be the same. While the girl runs into school and looks to soak up information, the golden boy is quite happy to have a relax, get his blanket out, rub the label with one hand and suck his thumb with the other. Being a Covid baby he also had problems with speech. Part of it is our fault as his sister always did the talking for him so we just left it off. Also watching the girl learn how to read pretty much by herself, we thought the boy would pick it up in a similar fashion. I always do bedtime and it is strictly books every night and years ago I used to find it a hindrance but I started to quite enjoy it and now it's great. Some of the books are hilarious. So while the girl started school ahead of everyone else the boy would probably be behind in a way. He has his strengths though. Everyone warms to him and he has a kind heart and makes friends very easily. Now my girl has loads of friends as well but we were nervous at the beginning whether she would but she found her feet really well which was great. But with the youngest we don't really want him to get old in a way because he is great the age he is so my wife will be very emotional seeing her little man head off to big school for the first time. It wasn't that long ago where the girl started school and the yeas just flown by. The stages of youth are very fast and someone told me once to enjoy each stage because it does not last long. The 9 year old is giving us cheek already. I don't mind this. I like the personality and the eye rolls but my wife is struggling to comprehend that the human that she made is giving her shit. I still think she is a new little human and I kind of get the whole daddy daughter being closer thing. My son is closer to his mammy but does still consider me a hero which I am quite happy with.
The other day one of the older boys got his ball stuck in the tree and then to dislodge this ball he kicked another ball up. Then this got stuck. My little man came running in and told me there were 3 balls stuck up the tree. He didn't tell me that he told the gang of boys that I was going to get them down. So out I went like big balls to retrieve the balls from the tree while a gang of youths watched me. I looked up the tree and the fucking balls were about 30ft up. How the hell did the young lad get not only 1 ball stuck that high but 3. After a couple of failed stick throw attempts and my little man looking on losing that optimism in his eyes I said fuck it. I had climbed trees in my youth. Never as high as I was going to go now but I had the CV for it. I launched myself for the first branch which is always the hardest as it was high off the ground. Then I started making my way up the tree. The balls were actually sitting at the end of a branch in a sort of v shaped fork. Like eggs in a giant nest. So I actually had to slide my way across a branch that was very high up to get these balls. The "What the fuck am I doing?!?" did cross my mind on a number of occasions. I was at minor/major injury height if the branch was to break but I felt I would probably land on one of the youths gawking up at me picking his nose. Just make sure I avoided my own youth. I was thinking why wasn't this young boy climbing up. Where was his father?? Not a fucking dope like me. Anyway I kept sliding across the branch like some sort of contestant on a Japanese show Wipeout. The further I went the more the branch dipped. Nearly there. One last push. A neighbour was walking her dog on the green below so I paused so she wouldn't see me up the tree but my son proudly pointed at me and said to her "Daddy is up the tree." which was embarrassing.
"How ya Mary" I said to her in a normal voice as if I was on the ground in a serious tone like I was ordering my first pint of Guinness at a bar.
Mary said How ya back to me and some shitty small talk about being up a tree.
I gave a laugh and some drivel that weren't even words that only rural Irish folk can pull off.
She was really thinking what's that fucking numpty doing up the tree?
I know she was.
Well fuck you Mary. It's a free world, I can be where ever I want to be saluting you. On the footpath, in the garden , up a tree, in a hedge...... well not in a hedge. If it was in the hedge she would be calling the police. Anyway fuck you Mary I said to myself. I was trying to concentrate. I could see Mary breaking into a brisk walk/jog so she could tell her nosey husband Johnny that I was up a tree and then the dog unbeknowst to him would be getting another walk so he could come down and give me pointers about how to climb a tree. Johnny couldn't climb the stairs, never mind a tree so I didn't want more spectators.
The balls were at the end of the branch and I was afraid if I went any further the branch would break. I was still in the ,as I call it , the horizontal Kuala Bear stance lying on my belly and making my way towards the balls. So I started rocking the branch so the balls would bounce out. Now it did come across like I was dry humping the tree which was not my intention but the movement did do the trick. One ball fell the long distance down to the kids and a hooray went up. I did another dry hump and ball number 2 came down. Then one final dry hump and ...
CRACK
The branch broke. I fell forward but whatever way I went I ended up catching onto the section where the branch broke so I was hanging with both hands off the branch. I felt like I was in the Gladiators hang tough and I swiftly wrapped my legs around the branch and climbed to safety. I made my way down in deep shock. I finally came down to the ground with a sigh of relief. My son cheering and looking at me like I was Superman. He told the big boys that his dad would get the ball and I did so it gave him credit in the bank and made him cool which I was delighted with. Well Johnny I said as he walked by with his confused dog getting walk number 2 in a matter of minutes. Missed all the action. The last time Johnny walked a dog was 20 years ago.
A couple of weeks later at Speech and Language therapy , the therapist asked my child what does your daddy do for a living and he regaled the tale to her in detail about me climbing trees for a living which was funny. It's amazing the memories that are remembered when you are small. News went around the neighbourhood and soon I became the go to person for things up trees. Mrs Mason asked me if I would get her kitten down from a tree. While she gave me the long drawn out story at my doorstep I thought back of my own childhood and a woman coming to our house asking my dad if he would get a kitten down from a tree. Now myself and my father were always a bit different in our approaches. But I remember the day vividly. My father took one look at the kitten. Went back to his house opposite her. Came back out with an axe. Chopped down the tree. Caught kitten landing and gave him to her owner. So the owner got her cat back but was now minus a tree. I laughed as I got my thick hoodie. Cats retrieval is tough because they cling onto you with their claws so a hoodie is recommended. Tree life is tough!