Roll on Friday

Thursday was a reasonably quiet day, all things considered. My indoor team, the mighty Irn Blue, play every Thursday night. So I woke up, my mind wrestling for oh, must’ve been a good four seconds, as to whether I should splash out on a baby-sitter in order to play. There were the kids to think of, the sanity and availability of the baby sitter, whether the toilet was still clean enough, the cost and whether it would really matter if I played or not.

As usual, when it come to any footy matters, I decide yes.

          

 Not to be confused with the delicious soft drink, my indoor footy team, Irn Blue

Tom has a morning swimming lesson, which he excels at and is now ready to move to the next level. I can’t help but laugh seeing him standing poolside in his trunks and goggles (which he insisted on wearing since we departed the house), beaming widely, showing off his finger clicking to his fellow students. What a boy.

The kids had a “free” day i.e. no nursery or child clubs. The now tattered itinerary on the fridge formally stated “Ally and kids at home – Ally off work.” Hmmmm, I thought. Don’t have a lot of holidays and there are 3 more days in this category before Jenny returns. I’ll have nothing left if I’m not careful. I remembered the kids enjoyed being in work the other day, seeing Diamond and the labs.

Right, in to work we’ll go, with a break in the nearby park at lunch time.

I construct a packed lunch, of some sort. Wrinkly brown rolls with bits of seed stuff on them, hacked open, a slice of cheese and a rip of ham delicately placed inside. I sniff the products, hmm – interesting perfume. I make 6 and discover they don’t naturally fit in the lunch box, there’s only comfortable room for two. I then discover bread based products are readily re-shapable with a bit of force and encouragement. I admire their new original form, from such humble beginnings too.

I pull out some crisps, and biscuits as well as some fruit – or what’s left of it. William goes through about 5 items a day and will eat green apples till his face adopts the same colour. Tony Blair would be proud. My banana consumption has really dwindled from the two-or-three-a-day days, not sure who to blame for that, maybe the monkeys.

 

Tony Blair and his cabinet (top) and The Monkees (bottom)

“I love your work” enthuses Katy.

“Aww thanks, Sweetie.”

“No, not your work, your work”

“Oh…hmmm.”

“I do too. It’s really great” agrees William, who’s dreaming of free Anzac biscuits.

“Yesh”, shays Tom “I like Diamond.”

“Hmmm. Maybe try and keep away from Diamond, I mean Damon, his name is Damon, a bit today – he’s a very busy man.”

“Will Iain be there?” asks Tom.

“Yesh.” I say.

“It’s not yesh, dad. It’s yes.”

“Grrrr.”

“We like Iain”, they all say.

“Yes. He’s a very nice lad.”

Parking outside my building, I should have seen the early warning signs. I’d not even got out of the car before the three of them had leapt out and gained access, through a fellow employee opening the “security” door to let them in.

“Wwwait!”, I shout. Too late, they are in. Through the glass doors I can see them heading straight for my office.

I look at the door opening colleague with amazement.

He looks at me and says “It lovely day, innit. Lovely kids, man”

“Yes. Thanks. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.” I try to photo-fit his face to a department but fail and decide to wipe him from memory.

William is behind my desk, sitting on my chair and reaching to switch on my computer.

Tom has taken over the white board and already drawn some scribbles – again with permanent markers.

Katy has arranged her corner and has her “school teaching” lessons all planned. She is just about to address the class, when I intervene, tell them who’s boss and evict the young pretender from my chair.

Bored with vandalising the white-board, Tom declares “Shink I’ll shee Ian now”.

“Hmmm.” I say, head down in a bucket of email. Then realising, say “no! no!!!” but too late, he’s gone.

To be fair to Iain, he’s a very mellow, placid kinda guy, with a passion for Falkirk, large unhealthy lunches and wild-life. Maybe the latter explains his tolerance of lesser spotted 4 year old boys that rummage around his desk, spill his coffee and nick his cricket ball.

  

I can see all this through my office window. I decide I can’t see it and get back to writing a proposal that’s simple enough for Americans to understand but complicated enough so that everyone will think ”hmm- don’t know what the guy’s on about, best let him get on with it.”

William asks for biscuits – again.

Katy asks if I’m ready to play schools now - again.

My resource allocation isn’t tying up with the project tasks.

Tom is throwing the cricket ball high in the air in the middle of all the desks. There is a crowd gathering.

I feel my head getting a bit sore. I put it down (yes, my head) and stare at the monitor.

“Can I just have one biscuit, please dad?”

“Knock-knock” says Katy.

The Head of Electronics breaks from a  meeting and passes Tom, looks at him and smiles – “great catch, mate.” I cover my eyes – don’t encourage him!

I put my head down again.

“Just one biscuit….please?”

“Arrrrrrghhhhhhh! That’s it – let’s go to the park!”

“What’s for lunch?” enquires the human race’s answer to Dyson.

“Rolls”

“Hmmm. Again?” continues William.

“Yes. Again.”

It’s good to get some fresh air, my head begins to clear. I cast my mind to tonight's footie. Undefeated in 3 games so far. A win tonight will put us in a good position.

My rolls go down faster than the Belgrano. Katy nibbles, Tom eats half of his, declares he’s full and runs to the swings. William with his eye on the bigger prize, pudding, forces his down and waits.

“Was that good, big boy?”

“Yes,… hmm delicious, thanks, daddy. Never seen rolls that shape before. Did you make them?”.

I selectively reply “Good boy. Would you like some more? Plenty more.”

Then rather too hastily for my liking, he says, “no thanks.”

He happily munches his apple reward. Must remember to go to the shops today, haven't been since yesterday. Get more fruit, oh, and rolls, kids love ‘em..

 

Footy time at last arrives. It’s great driving off in the car on my own-some. Good to see the lads and morale is high.

The opposition only have one decent player – mind you, he is blooming good. I sub myself and he scores. Damn! 1-0 down at the end of the first quarter.

2nd quarter is worse and we go down 3-0. I’m furious with my team, their team and the ref., who red carded one of our lads. We go 5-0 down with 9 minutes to go and it aint looking good.

I watched a bit of the Incredible Hulk last week on TV. How the mild-mannered Scientist goes green, bursts his shirt and throws cars, buildings and naughty people around. He must’ve been an indoor footie player. The heat, the intensity, the non-stop action, the physical and verbal abuse. Arrrrrrrgh I can feel it. My mind thinks of wheat rolls with seedy bits, Diamond, Iain, knock-knock jokes, finger clicking and supermarket shopping.  I come out for the final quarter with a ripped shirt, green skin, eyes a-popping, blood thumping.

Sadly, despite scoring 2 and earning a penalty, it’s not enough. We lose 5-4.

I look forward to Friday.