I had one slight moment of fear when I realised I was only going to get one shot at lighting the BBQ, but that soon passed when the fire caught and it roared into life. The two standout moments of the weekend, though, were both child-related.
The first involved the son of friends, who is our guideson/godson. They were short on options at the time. He's at the age where he's not old enough to be a teenager, but too old to hang with the rest of the kids. so he spent most of the day helping me and the Boy out with the cooking. It wasn't until about three hours into this arrangement that I realised I was essentially outsourcing my cooking duties by using child labour. I'm obviously more in touch with the corrupt Tory Government than I thought.
The other moment involved the Boy. For years, I tried to encourage him to do martial arts but he never really bothered. He was even less bothered when I needed a body to drill techniques on.
Recently, however, he's started doing kung-fu and he's really loving it. So I was delighted when he uttered the words: 'Come out into the garden. We'll spar!'
I was beyond happy. It was a moment of male bonding between stepfather and stepson. I think he recognised it because he smiled. I smiled, too. There was a moment of recognition. A moment of genuine affection. Then I knocked the shit out of him.
I obviously didn't do that last thing.
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