Small Sprog grows up

Last night, Small Sprog was pestering me to play conkers with him. ''Just once'' I say, because I'm tired and seem to have a never ending list of chores to do, and things on my mind. I feel guilty for not really wanting to. He seems pleased that I have agreed to play. Perhaps this is because he knows that once he engages my attention, I will actually enjoy it and forget my tiredness. Perhaps he has seen me down a few glasses of wine, knowing that soon they will take effect and I will be as happy and silly as him!

He wanders off into the kitchen

I can hear him scrabbling about in the Kitchen drawers. I know he is trying to make a hole in my conker, so that he can fix the string. I know I should help.

I am tired.

There are some banging and scraping noises in the other room, lots of grunting and a bit of sawing. There is silence and then more banging, some scrabbling around, but no cries for help! After a few minutes I stop what I am doing and go reluctantly into the kitchen.........just in case.

But no need. He has successfully made a hole and a knot and presents me with my prize winning conker. I look at his tools. The end of the whisk from the electric mixer, a huge carving fork, scissors and a knife. There is no blood. There is not even a scratch on the worktop, he has used a chopping board! He has grown up, and I hardly noticed.

We played conkers - his way - and as the wine began to unwind my soul, we abandoned the conkers and played air guitar to very loud music. We had fun.

Last night, he was mine