Daisy And Me People I meet when on my walks with Daisy

19Jul/140

Pulling Teeth and Loving Uncle Bill

Fred is downstairs watching a DVD. Lisa and Ruby have gone shopping leaving the men at home. After shopping the two are off to Dingle, the girls are gathering and Ruby needs to be chauffeured to Ali’s door. Lisa suggested that she get the bus at 6pm, a suggestion that was met with a look from Ruby that ironically could only be matched by her mother. Fred is happy with the peace; it has been a long week.

It has also been a great week. The man has been having lie-ins in the morning and has also managed to escape going to the library. Between me working and making a trip to Cork he kept silent, hoping against hope that I’d forgotten or the trips were over with for the summer. They are too important though, he needs to put in the extra hours, so come Monday afternoon it will be back to the desk. That’s a news story that I won’t be breaking until about 3pm Monday afternoon, best to keep the peace for the time being.

Once Fred gets something into his head it stays there. Lisa calls them his figaries and getting his back up about something planned is one of his biggest. If he’s looking forward to an event such as a trip to Dublin everything else will be forgotten, it will be tunnel vision until we get in the car. So much so that the school had to ask us not to tell Fred about any plans we make, as he won’t do school work from that day. I forgot this rule in his last week and was reprimanded at the end of year meeting.

When it’s something that Fred does not want to do he’ll just go on and on about not doing it. Such it would be with the library visit. I could almost guarantee that his last words of the day before going to sleep would be...

“I’m not going to that library Dad, I’m sick of it.”

To which I’d reply,

“Well if you don’t go there’ll be no breakfast in the morning,” or some equally pointless, idle and unenforceable threat.

I’m not sure what happened last night in the bedroom but Fred was back downstairs less than an hour after going to bed. The usual, I heard the door open and the angry steps on the stairs, plus the breath fuming out of Fred’s nose. Soon he was the door of the TV room, arms down by his side, fists clenched and nostrils going like one of Granddad Jimmy’s prize bulls...

“I’m sick of that Mummy,” was all he got out.

His mother wasn’t far behind him...“There’ll be no toy store tomorrow,”

Fred having planned a trip with the present he got from Uncle Bill.

“Oh ya?" was the reply to that threat.

First thing this morning though Fred was out of the bed and up to his mother. Peace was negotiated and toy store rights were reinstated. So not only is Fred now watching a DVD he’s also got a brand new Spiderman sitting beside him.

All worked out in the end.

Uncle Bill and Chrissie arrived on Wednesday for a two night stay. Fred was delighted to have his Uncle Bill down. So much so that I was pushed aside. When I came in from a visit of my own Fred was cuddled up to Uncle Bill on the couch, barely raising his head when I walked into the room. Later the three of us were heading to the off-licence to get wine for the dinner. Fred told me to stay; I wasn’t to come as it was just him and Uncle Bill. As I got into the car Fred tried to stop me but we compromised with him sitting in the front. In town we had to park up so Bill could go to the cash point. Walking down the street Fred held Bill’s hand, not even looking at me, just enough to ensure I was a step behind. When we got to the off-licence I went to hold Fred’s hand but was pushed away. Very upsetting for the man who’s usually at the centre of everything Fred does. In the off-licence Fred was sticking to Bill like glue. In truth it was lovely to see, every boy should have an Uncle to idolise.

Over the next couple of days Fred was in heaven. The family minus me went for a drive around North Kerry, stopping in Listowel for lunch. Fred of course got his favourite chowder and chips which he demolished. It was a very full boy who came home to me later in the afternoon. Not so full though that he wasn’t up for a trip to the beach. I was allowed go but had to sit in the back again. We went to a quiet beach with lots of shells and rocks. It really was a bit of heaven. Fred dug around in a fresh stream, collecting shells and rocks while the two adults sat back in the sun, keeping an eye on the man. We spent about an hour there, all three of us getting nicely tired in the afternoon heat. Once it was time to go I offered Fred a piggy-back to the car and he gladly hopped up on my poor back. Dad was useful for something again. Just as we got close to the car Fred put his head to me ear and said, “I love you Daddy.” All hurt instantly forgotten.

Ruby had come home in the meantime so it was a full house sitting down for dinner that evening. A precious moment in our great summer. Fred sat up next to Uncle Bill. At one stage I watched him and he was copying every movement that Bill was making. Copying him eating and drinking, cutting his meat or buttering his bread. He’s a funny boy is our Fred.

When Bill and Chrissie left on Friday morning the upset was lessened by the present of spending money for the toy store. In a way it made up for the tooth loss that Fred had forgotten about on the day Bill arrived.

I was upstairs and came down to make Fred’s lunch. He wasn’t in the front room or kitchen and when I called him the answer “one minute,” came from the bathroom. That is usually a sign that he’s up to something, usually nothing good. I knocked on the door and Fred opened it a small bit. He was holding a blood stained cloth to his mouth. “What’s going on?” I asked, pushing the door in a bit more. Fred stepped back to allow me in fully. The sink was covered in blood and there were a couple of cotton buds full of blood lying by the taps.

“Ah my tooth was hurting me so I took it out,” Fred said through the cloth.

He had been complaining about a sore tooth over breakfast and obviously decided to take matters into his own hand. The tooth itself was on the sink, a baby tooth but a fair sized one, not unlike the fair sized hole in Fred’s gums.

“Now I can get money from the tooth fairy for the toy shop,” Fred said.

“You’re a bit old for the tooth fairy now,” I said, cleaning up the blood.

Within an hour he was back out playing and forgot completely about the hole in his gums. The tooth fairy wasn’t mentioned again but then Uncle Bill gave him much more than the tooth fairy ever did.

Tough out is our Fred but he’s also the most gentle, loving boy you’ll ever meet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted by John Verling

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