Writing challenge 30th November 2011 - Advent

Advent

It was the best of tines, it was the worst of tines. In fact it had been a forking awful day. I had been clearing out the stables for hours, pitching that odourous mix of straw and muck into a wheelbarrow and trucking it off to the heap by the side of the road where it gently steamed in the Autumn sunshine. I put the usual sign on top for passing rose and mushroom growers, ‘Pick your own horse manure, buyer collects.’ I then went back to bolt the stable doors after the horses had closed up for the day.

            The only good part of the day was that my son, Robert, had been helping me with the jobs around our riding school. He is eight and full of the questions that children that age ask and parents greet with mighty dread. It’s a bit like being on University Challenge when you should really be on Who Wants to be a …answering the first couple of questions. I mean, what do you tell an eight year old when he asks, ‘Why doesn’t the moon fall down, Dad?’ Do you answer using a simple Newtonian approximation with just a few of the equations of motion or Special Relativity to confirm the curvature of space using the gravity lensing of light as an example? No, I decided that it was no good hiding the facts of life from him, he would have to know eventually so I sat him down on the wheelbarrow, oops, forgot the pitchfork, and quickly went through the simplistic version of Quantum Physics with an explanation of the Higgs Field and the potential upset if CERN proved that there was no Higgs Boson.

            ‘OK Dad,’ he said, patiently ‘I understand all that simple stuff but why does the pub in the village, The Moon, not fall down, it is so old and it leans to the side a bit.’

            ‘I don’t know, Robert, that’s a much too difficult question for me. All I know is that my friend, Old Ted, hung himself in the Gents there last New Year’s Eve. That’s why  the toilets are now called the Kamikarzee. Come on young Bob it’s bath time and bed for you.’

            I managed to get him through the usual evening routine, bath, milky drink, into bed after saying his prayers – well his version anyway,

            ‘Now I lay me down to sleep,
            I pray the Lord my soul to keep,

            But not too long, I’ll need it soon

            I think tonight there’s a full moon

            If I shall die before I wake,
            I pray the Lord my soul to take.

            Heel and toe and laces too

            Why not take the whole damn shoe?’  

and then a story. We were half way through Tales from the Café, Volume one, you know that one about the last Red Kite in Snowdonia? Always has me in tears but Robert was asleep by the time I got to that last, sad bit. We had the discussion about possible Christmas presents of course. I said if he kept on about it I would tell Father Christmas not to bring him anything. He patronised me as usual and pretended to believe that stuff about old man FC. He had floored me last year when he asked me if Rudolf  flew using jet or rocket principles as it depended if he flew above the atmosphere or not. Kids!

            Today was the first day of Advent so we had to open the little door on the calender and fight over who was going to eat the chocolate. I tried to cheat by telling him he would have to clean his teeth again but I knew I was wasting my breath. He quoted an article from Two Thirty Magazine that said brushing twice a day was OK but any more would wear away the  enamel on his teeth. I gave in, as always. I wouldn’t really cheat, honest.

            I watched him as he slept. What would Christmas be without children eh? Quiet, peaceful, you could watch the Great Escape if you wanted or snooze through the afternoon.  No not the same, but better? No.

            It had been a good day in the Adventure Playground of life.