Today, I am Ralph

Blake bounds into reception.

"Hello, Blake," say I.

"My name is Ralph. Tell her, mommy. And, you are not my Guppy anymore."

Gulp.

"You are now my Dolphin."

Blake's name varies from Ralph to Andy to Spiderman to Superman to Tarzan - dramatic displays included.

Or, "Hello, what is your name today?"

"Blake."

Teacher Edith, roster in hand:

"Alan Armstrong?"

"Here, ma'am."

"Chris Buitendag?"

"Here, ma'am."

"Blake Campbell?"

"Not here, ma'am. But Batman, is."

At reception, I have two chairs, with animal print cushion covers. I sit down.

"Uppy Guppy Dolphin! You're sitting on the lion's tail, and he will jump up and bite you."

Misty bought a fish tank with two goldies, the colour of Blake's hair. They died that night. Misty was concerned about breaking the awful news.

Misty: "I am so sorry."

Blake: "Never mind, mommy. It's okay, really. But, they must have been in a hurry to go to heaven. They weren't here for very long."

A sleepover at Aimee.

Aimee: "Bedtime, Blake and sleep tight."

Blake: "Aimee, please stay here, I can't sleep."

Aimee: "Why not, Blake?"

Blake: "I forgot to tell you how much I love you."

In the pool at Guppy's, Blake bursts into song:

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
I wish I had a chocolate bar.
My mommy drives
An old, white car...

Pause for thought -

"You know, mommy, you don't need armbands. You've got boobies!"

Whatever keeps one afloat.

The other evening Blake said to Misty: "Now, tell me Mommy, how was your day today?"

After a long toing and froing of Blake asking: "And, then what did he say?" And, "So what did you do?" he says: "Mommy, are you not going to ask me how my day went?"

"So, how did your day go?" says Misty giggling.

"Ok," is Blake's only reply.

Blake, A Big Boy Now

Blake, is now three and a half, years old.

Last week, my family spent the morning at the Crafter's Market, and when I whooshed Blake into my arms, I said:

"Hello, my big man,"

To be told: "I am not a man. I am still a boy. That is a man." (Nodding at AJ).

So, now I know.

"Blake," I continued, "You know what I found in the garden this morning? A real, live, bunny."

"If you don't want him, Guppy, I'll have him. Oh, no, the dogs!"

Hoisted on AJ's shoulders, we wandered about, our separate ways, and there was an update on our whereabouts:

"Where are you, Guppy? Oh, there you are. Where, are you now, Mommy? And, Aimee?"

Then: "You know, AJ. I keep on finding one, and then losing another one."

At lunch, the waitron said: "You know, this is the best behaved three year old, I have ever seen in this restaurant."

Three and a half...

Later that evening, we returned to Emporers Palace to view the Festival of Lights, and Blake found Santa Claus:

"I know you. You are the real Santa Claus! You were at my house last year."

Blake was rewarded with a sucker:

"Thank you, but I will also need one for my Mommy. I'll keep it for her."

After a delightful day, Misty drove me home, and Blake, near to tears, said:

"I will not cry. Like the last time. I am a big boy now."

At Terrylin, I kissed Blake goodbye, and noticed Misty, looking over her shoulder.

Blake was making a kissing face. And, I saw him.

"You may close the door now, Guppy. Goodbye."

Misty called, the following morning.

Blake: "Why do you guys get to sleep together, when I have to sleep alone?"

Nick: "You have all your toys to sleep with."

Blake: "Ok, tomorrow night, I bring them with me..."

Blake asked Misty to explain the meaning of Christmas. Misty replied that this was to celebrate Jesus' birthday and that's why children receive presents.

Blake: "I love Jesus. He is like a big brother to me."

Blake, the Busybody.

Every gran's grandchild is the grandest.

We moan about our children, but boast about our grandchildren. Or so, I've heard.

Before my daughters were born, I dreamed of a mischievous, ginger son, with a frog in his pocket.

I have been blessed with Blake.

Blake's best cuddly animal, is his Woofie. Before he sleeps, Woofie is suffocated with hugs and kisses.

One night, a dog barked outside. Blake was in his element - Woofie was alive.

Blake likes to help around the house. Everything has a place, and he always parks his bika in the bedroom.

If I ask to speak to Blake, over the 'phone, and say: "Hello Blake," he points to himself. Ditto, if he sees a photo of himself, he points to his face, and smiles and kisses the 'photo.

After using the loo, he uses the brush to clean, scrubbing and laughing.

Misty unpacked a melted cooldrink cup from the dishwasher. Blake threw back his head, held his tummy and laughed.

He was also thrilled to he bones, flicking light switches on and off. He nearly flew out of our arms, giggling.

On one of Blake's memorable visits I heard my hair dryer full throttle, and then feet scuttling down the passage.

Blake was nowhere to be found.

Panic. "Blake, Blake, Blaake, BLAKE," No reply.

I discover a curled-up, giggling bundle under the bed.

Silence. Blake is hanging my jewellery on the door handles.

As a treat, Steven takes Blake to see some real bika's.

Blake went bananas - "Bika's! Bikaa's! Bikaaa's!", and pointed to the posters.

Even the mechanics walked in to witness the commotion.

Steven told me that Blake was offered a beer.

He can tell such porkies sometimes.

Pee-Paap

After nearly eight years, with no incidents, The Campbells decide to install an alarm.

Misty memorised the code, and nagged Nick to do so.

With Blake's assistance, the eyes were pointed out, and panic buttons stored in a safe place.

Nick confirmed that he now understood.

It had to happen.

The following morning, Nick entered the kitchen, to make a cuppa, and the household, not to mention, the neighbourhood, was awakened.

Pee-Paap. Pee-Paap. Pee-Paap.

Blake skidded into the marital bed, and pulled a pillow over his head.

Misty's mobile rings, with Nick shouting:

"What's the code? What's the damn code?"

"It's 12345, Daddy."

Blake, with minimal mishaps, has now graduated to the loo.

Nick: "Come on my boy, you must go and wee."

Blake enjoys this, saying: "Shake it. Shake it."

Blake's instructions to mommy are to bring Syd and a potty.

As Blake leans over the loo, Syd is seated on the potty.

"Are you finished now, Blake?"

"Yes, Daddy, but please leave Syd. He is busy with a pooh."

High Fives

Blake is now 18 months old, throws a ball, and kicks it.

Real Madrid must be notified asap.

Nick and Blake also watch WWE Raw, and the fun begins.

Nick swings Blake over his shoulder, throws him up, catches him, and they fall onto the floor.

Nick then leaves the lounge, and Blake runs to his toy box, retrieves a large monkey, and waits for Nick to return.

Blake then pummels the monkey to an inch of its stuffed life, complete with sound effects.

Nick walks away again, and Blake peers down the passage.

He then hugs, kisses and pats the monkey: "There, there."

On Nick's return, the monkey is, once again, flying around the room.

One evening, a very sad Blake said : "Jay-Jay hit me at school today."

No nonsense Nick, was having none of this:

"Come here, my boy. I'll show you how to doesch-doesch."

The following day, the result.

Misty: "How was school today?"

Blake: "Good."

Misty: "Did Jay-Jay doesch you?"

Blake : "Yip."

Misty: "Did you cry?"

Blake : "Noooo!"

Misty: "Did you doesch him back?"

Blake: "Yip."

Misty: "Did you make him cry?"

Blake : "Yip. Two times."

And, up go Blake hands for a high-five.

Blake's Bad Day

While Misty was looking for her missing mobile, she found Blake on his bed, ankles crossed.

Still too small to dial, but not to speak.

"Hello, hello, Guppy, are you there?"

"Where's Guppy?" asks Misty.

"Guppy's Gone", sighs Blake.

"Oupa, Oupa, where are you? Your 'phones broken, mommy."

He then puts his palms together: "Let us Pray."

Later, "Golf, Daddy, golf. Please Daddy."

"We can't, my boy. It's raining."

"Well then, just give me a hug."

Misty left to do the groceries, and returned to find a little boy she did not recognise sitting in the garden.

Nick had crew-cut Blake's hair, which resembled a porcupine, and left a pumpkin fritter fringe which was promptly gelled.

Blake was not amused and Misty attempted to rectify the situation. But the slipped scissor, left Blake with a bald patch.

He now resembled Dennis the Menace.

But, Blake's day did get better.

The family discovered a spider ogling them from the curtains.

Not an insy winsy one, but a big, fat hairy one resembling Rasputin. This was the size of Nick's hand according to Blake.

Nick trapped the spider with a bowl, and let it loose in the garden.

I would have smacked it with a spade.

In all the excitement, with Misty and Nick screaming like nervous Idols Contestants, Blake was bouncing about, screaming with laughter.

Off With My Head

Blake, celebrated his third birthday with a party at Terrylin. Thoroughly enjoyed by all, thanks for asking.

As he is Cancerian, Blake is very house-proud, and if he spills his juice he will find a cloth, and wiping eagerly, will inform all:

"Look, I messed!"

On our last weekly get-together, Aimee brought her puppy to show Blake, whom he wanted to exchange with any teddy bear, and not wanting to miss anything, became belligerent at bath time.

While being led away by Misty, he implored:

"Guppy, Aimee, Puppy, anybody! Save me, Save me!!"

Once Blake was in bed, we were absorbed watching 'Desperate Housewives'. One of them began throwing a bowl of fruit about and we heard a voice from the passage:

"Look, look, she messed!"

The other afternoon, Misty and Blake, popped in to fetch magazines and marshmellow bunnies, and on leaving:

"Bye, bye, love you, love you," we shout together, with me sticking my head through the car window kissing Blake and 'last touching.'

While this was happening Blake decided to wind-up the window with my head still sticking through!

I grinning like a goon am unaware of this, until a sixth sense kicks in, and I am certain my head is about to be sliced off and fall into his lap!

"Save me, save me," I shout to a puzzled Blake, who appears to be wondering why no-one saves him at bath time. He eventually removes his finger from the lever.

Misty, of course, found the whole incident hilarious.

I suppose it was funny. In a way.

Oh, No, Not Again!

Over the Easter weekend, the Campbells visited their Italian families, to savour a variety of pasta dishes.

Pasta with seafood, pasta with chicken, pasta with vegetables, pasta with salads; actually, any pasta you please.

The last port of call, was Nonna, who deposited a huge bowl of pasta, on the table.

Blake, throwing up his arms in despair, and covering his eyes, with his hands, said:

"Oh, no, Nonna, not pasta again!"

Nonna and Guppy were sitting side-by-side, when Blake threw his arms around us saying, very solemnly:

"I love you both two times."

Every pre-school morning there is a chorus of: "Bye-bye sweetheart." "I'll see you later." "Love you lots", and the little uns hug and kiss their parents, before hopping and skipping, to their classrooms.

Blake: "Bye, bye, Mommy, see you later..."

Misty: "I want to walk, with you, to your classroom."

Blake: "Oh, No, Mommy! Not Again!!"

That same afternoon, Misty arrived, and the new teacher, wearily, exclaimed:

"Thank goodness! Saved by the bell!!"

There stood Blake with his buddy in the corner, pointing at each other, and rubbing their bottoms.

Misty: "What happened, Blake?"

Blake: "I won't talk about it."

At home, Blake: "Mommy, if I am naughty, you must smack me on my bottom, OK."

Misty: "No, I won't smack you. You must smack your own bottom."

Blake, ponders this, bends over, lifts his arm, and....

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blake: "Oh, No, Not Again..."

Pillow Talk

On a visit to the Campbells, Misty completing an assignment had a blonde moment with GPS co-ordinates:

"Where do I find Gauteng on the map?"

Aimee doubles up with laughter.

Blake with pointed forefinger: "Emmie! I see you! Don't be naughty!"

You don't mess with his mommy.

I then gave Blake, a Buzz and Woody colouring-in book and puzzle.

And he disappeared.

We leapt off the couches running and yelling until Nick shouted:

"It's okay. I found him!"

There was Blake, hidden inbetween the pillows, colouring-in and giggling.

We settled down again and then it was time for more sports, which went like this.

Blake piled up the pillows on the couches next to Nick and waited in the doorway.

After a few seconds Blake felt a thump on the back of his head.

"Stop, Daddy, Stop!"

Nick stops.

"More, Daddy, More!"

That night during a thunderstorm, Misty felt a presence in the bedroom.

Blake was squeezed in between the bed and side cupboard.

"Psst, Mommy, Boom-Boom!"

Blake snuggled in, and in the morning as Nick sat on the side of the bed rubbing his eyes, a pillow was hurled at his head.

Blake All A Buzz

Blake is now obsessed with Buzz Lightyear and before bedtime he watches Toy Story.

E-v-e-r-y night.

He then leaps about swinging a light-sabre which narrowly misses the TV, yelling:

"To Infinity and Beyond."

Last Saturday Nick and Misty treated Blake at ToysRus. There he selected a cap, Buzz, and a gift inside a chocolate egg.

And, there was Woody.

Blake's mouth formed a perfect O. He clenched his fist around Woody, and refused to let go.

Off to Putt-Putt, what a day, and every time Blake hit the ball, he bellowed:

"To Infinity and Beyond."

When the ball went into the hole Blake punched the air and dislodged Woody.

"Now, the balls gone! And Woody!", he cried.

Back home Blake misplaced Woody, the size of his pinky finger, again.

Tossing out his toyboxes, and slapping his hands on his head, Blake explained the tragic situation:

"No, Mommy, no. Buzz is crying!"

When Blake found Woody he squashed their heads together making kissing sounds.

Misty switched on the TV. There was - Monsters Inc.

"No, Mommy, no!!! Now you made Buzz cry. And Woody. And Meeeeee!!!"

Blake, the Bokkie

Nick and Misty were awakened by Blake bellowing: "Bokke!", and waving his t-shirt around.

I was to accompany Misty to the Mall and as I opened the shower tap my heart stopped.

After some gurgling the water farted and then nothing.

Must be another bluddy burst water pipe I decide, and call the Council.

But, like Manuel from Fawlty Towers they know nothing.

After a cold shower off we go.

While Misty was filling the trolley, Blake would say: "Oh, thank you, mommy, thank you."

Then Blake spotted a rugby ball inscribed, Rugby World Cup - 2011 - Springboks.

Blake helped himself to the ball, and saw the shelf of dog bowls.

After he selected the bowl that fitted the rugby ball, replacing the others as he went along, he set it in place, slid his feet four paces backwards, put his hands on his hips, looked upwards, and kicked.

Straight as an arrow, thank goodness, as I envisioned cans of dog food flying off the shelves.

By this time, there was an audience clapping away, which alerted security and they joined in.

"He is sooo cute," they all agreed.

Onto the next stop with Blake holding the Rugby Ball and bowl as though his life depended on it, he saw a toy police car, climbed in and off her went

"We really have to go now!" said Misty, and he ran off at a mean speed.

"Blake, Blake, stop, wait, please, Blake!" I called, breathlessly.

But this made him run faster into the arms of a man sporting a rugby jersey.

"Does he belong to you?", he asked me.

Oh, yes. Indeed.

Wonderful Wednesdays

Midweek Aimee and I visit the Campbells.

This wonderful Wednesday began with Blake running and leaping into my arms, shouting: "Guppy, Guppy"

"I thought I was Gummy," I say, smothering him with hugs and kisses.

"No, no," laughs Blake, shaking his head and hands. "Not Gummy, Guppeee!"

"Come Gummy, no Guppy, come. Let's play golf."

"Blake, Guppy is sooo tired," I say. "Let's read or watch Tele-Tubbies."

"Please pour me an Oros, Guppy."

"Drink, Blake."

"No, Guppy, no. Where's yours?"

We snuggle up between the couch cushions and I close my eyes.

"Come, Guppy, come. No, stay, Guppy, stay."

Blake disappears into the bedroom and returns:

"Come, Guppy, come!"

Blake has turned back his bedcovers: "Sleep, Guppy, sleep."

As I lie down Blake removes my specs, and places them carefully on the bedside table.

Later, there is a massive splash in the bathroom, and: "Whaah!"

It's Blake, hair on end and eyes like marbles.

All of us: "Blake, what happened?"

"I fell. And the water smacked my bum."

Misty: "Where you standing on the bath again?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Are you going to stop that now?"

"No, mommy, it's funny..."

Settled in the lounge and making a racket, Blake puts his finger on his mouth: "Sssh, all."

Of course, no-one listens. "Ssssh, SSSSHH!"

"What's wrong, Blake?" asks Misty.

Blake farts!

Thanks, Nick for teaching Blake to warn us in advance.

Hello and Goodbye

Blake, waves to all as he leaves: "Hello, Goodbye", even to the 'plane overhead.

At home there is a hello for everybody and everything. This includes the children walking along the pavement, the family dogs, and all his possessions.

"Hello bika's, hello balla's, hello, books."

Whenever Blake leaves the house the ritual becomes:

"Goodbye bika's, goodbye balla's, goodbye books."

Yesterday morning, while Misty was bustling about she discovered Blake having a bath in the shower.

He had pushed a golf ball into the drain way down, and was lying on the shower floor, hands behind his neck, legs folded at the knees, and singing.

The golf club used to hammer the ball into the drain, was pushed against the door, making entry difficult.

After Blake dressed, he began his goodbye's.

"Please hurry, Blake," pleaded Misty, "we are going to be late!"

"Aw, Mummy," replied Blake, "please go back to sleep!"

Blake, has a cousin Courtney, aged seven, who is a poppet of note.

About three years ago, Courtney came to visit, and politely enquired as to whether she may use the loo.

"But, I must warn you in advance it will be a number two."

The other day, Courtney threw a carrot into the garbage bin.

Her mommy Michelle lectured her about starving Somalians.

"Well call them and tell them, they can have my carrot," replied Courtney.

Courtney now has a brother, Cayden, who sang Happy Birthday to his mom.

"What did she say?" asked Misty.

"Nothing," he replied, "She was laughing so much she farted."

Golf, Anyone?

Nick took Blake to the range to practice his golf.

But if another golfer tried to hit their balls Blake would run after them, shouting: "Mine balla, mine balla!! Go get them balla's"

After complaints Nick and Blake went home.

Later that week, Blake spent the day with me.

He opens his bag of balla's. Every size and shape. But, no golf balls.

"Wrong balla's. Gummy, these are kakka!" he wails.

So Steven buys 12 ping-pong balla's. The real ones would smash every window to smithereens.

A beaming Blake blasts them down the passage, and then silence.

"Boet, come here!" he calls Steven.

There stands Blake leaning on the club, other hand on his hip, with one foot crossed over the other.

Steven has now been appointed as the caddy, and is expected to retrieve balls from under the beds and in the bathrooms.

Meanwhile, I discover a laptop in the bag and switch it on.

"Hello and Welcome. Please press the red button and we can begin."

Blake marches into the sitting room and presses the off switch.

"Bye-bye, see you later."

"Bye-bye", says Blake.

I flick the on button. Blake presses the off switch.

"Bye-bye. See you later."

"Bye-bye," bellows Blake, "I said bye-bye. Bye-bye. Now go away. I'm playing golf. Can't you see?"

Blake's Baptism

Blake was baptised in St. Therese's Catholic Church, and I was a tad concerned about outbursts of bika and balla during the ceremony.

But, everything went off splendidly along with another little cherub, both of them ginger's.

Neither of them uttered a sound, even when the holy water flattened Blake's mowahawk.

We then assembled at Villa Bianca for lunch, Blake was the man of the moment, with one gentleman yelling: "Give that Man a Bells!!"

To say that the Itilian Giannoccaro's are a colourful lot is an understatement.

At any 'get-together' they all have stories to yell. This immediate family consists of eight brothers and sisters who all speak at the same time, nobody listens to any one else, and it is a laugh a minute.

There are arguments about who owes whom money from 20 years ago.

"But, I thought that was a gift."

"You said that the last 100 times!"

"Oh, forget it," and then there are passionate declarations of love, ties that bind, and death threats to anyone who dares to harm.

A story doing the rounds was of two sisters, nicknamed - 'I know', and 'I don't know'.

Sister 1 : "Where is your husband tonight?"
Sister 2 : "I don't know!"
Sister 3 : "I know!"

Sister No.1 : "Where is your daughter this morning?" Repeat.

Blake, named Archie by Dada, has his own version:

Granny Mary is Nona. (correct)

I am Gummy. (must make that orthodontist's appointment)

Grandpa Martin is Ammie.

Godmother Aimee is Emmie.

Nick and Misty are Daddee and Mommee (sorted)

Godfather Dada is confused with Daddee, and so Dada announced: "Just call me Ugly."

Blake, not Superman

Blake's other granny Nonna bought him a helmet and bika boots.

All that is now required is a jacket and gloves to complete the ensemble.

I gave Blake an old pair of woollen gloves. "Thank you, Guppee. You are so kind."

Blake is so impressed with his boots. When I see him he hikes up his jeans and points to each one in turn.

After Misty parks her car in the driveway, Blake waits for her to leave to prepare dinner.

He jumps into the driver's seat, presses the button to roll down the window, fastens the seatbelt, and turns up the volume on the radio.

"Broom. Broom. Broom", shouts Blake, turning the steering wheel.

Screeching cats, yelping dogs and baffled birds all flee in unison, and Sanna opens her door, saying: "That can only be Blake!"

Not long after, Misty hears: "Ma, Maah, Maaah! Daddeee!!"

Blake has locked himself in the car!

"Push the button, Blake", says Misty.

"I can't Mom, it's stuck. I am not Superman."

One day is one day when Blake may catapult into the traffic cop's garden next door, while he and his family are having dinner.

Blake our Brick

I was watching 'The Middle', where the youngest son, Brick, was nearly swopped at birth with a baby named Blake.

The mother, pacifying Brick, said: "Anyway, Blake is a boring name."

Have you ever?!

Misty was unpegging the washing, when she felt as though a gale force wind was about to lift her off her feet.

With a prior warning of: "Marmeeee," Blake with his arms and legs, clutched around Nick's shirt, swirled around the washing line like a tornado.

Even the neighbour's looked over the wall.

Nick brought Blake home from playschool, and saw the house key on the kitchen counter.

Nick pushed Blake through the window and begged him to give him the key.

Blake, however, had a better idea and jumped off the counter, ran to his bedroom, and rode his bika up and down the passage.

When Misty returned home, Nick was still standing at the window, begging: "Please, Blake, please, give me the key!"

Nick and Misty, no longer need an alarm. At 6am, their wake-up call is 'vroom, vroom, vroom'.

Blake often checks the car tyres, by kicking them, to ensure they are in order.

Last Saturday morning, Blake insisted on baked beans on toast for breakfast.

Once the beans had taken effect, Blake dramatically bent over, placed his hands on his knees and let rip.

While he looked embarrassed, he guffawed as though this was the funniest thing ever.

Misty and Aimee visited me for a natter. We sat on the front porch, while Blake batted the ball.

Blake then hid the ball under a tree and toddled up the steps to sit next to me on the slatted bench. He looked uncomfortable and slid off.

Blake then pushed his fist under Misty's bottom, which was on the comfy chair.

Misty said: "Blake, your ball is not here. I'll get up and show you."

Blake was now comfortable and smiled at his mom.










As Misty stood up, Blake leapt onto the chair, with a look that had to be seen to be believed.

Gotcha!

A Day with Blake

Blake was in hospital for two days.

He scampered about with Chloe, who had a brain tumour removed, both as happy as larks.

Blake, in fits of giggles, kept tugging at the nurses skirts, asking for a bika.

Once better, beaming Blake, visited Guppy, as Misty went to work.

Blake on his bika zoomed down the passages, around the back garden, the front garden and the driveway.

He insisted on feeding himself, and upended, the porridge onto the carpet.

I retrieved a book, and began to read with superhuman enunciation. Blake looked at me as though I was daft, and bursts out laughing.

He opens the biscuit tin, and puts his head inside. I forgot to replenish the Iced-Zoo. Blake then points, throws up his arms and says: "Gone!"

Misty calls. Blake presses every button, and cranes the mobile in his neck - "Mummy Gone."

I also forgot to put the container of tooth-picks away. Blake and I spend the next 30 minutes, picking up 100 toothpicks.

Blake has now found the permanent marker, and is poised at the lounge wall. I find some paper and crayons. Silence.

I decide to wash the breakfast dishes. Blake enters the kitchen, and says: "Gone." I crawl under the bed, to retrieve 30 crayons. All the while, Blake is smacking me on the bottom and laughing...

10am - 3 hours to go. Misty calls. She will be an hour late.

1pm - I change Blake into clean threads. Mommy is on her way. We are off to Wimpy.

Blake has found a packet of nik-naks and now he is orange, from head to toe.

At the Wimpy, Blake pours a bubblegum milkshake over his head and giggles.

Misty and I, collapse with laughter - not the right thing, we know...

Blake now looks as though he could audition for Avatar 2...

Up for Sports

Blake's potty class were the first to line up for the obstacle race. I implored his fans, to behave appropriately and not ululate, as this would be very distracting.

Halfway through the race, Blake spied plastic bikes at the end of each lane. He bolted like Usain, and, unable to contain myself, I ran along the sidelines, bellowing: "Run, Blake, Run!"

Blake realised that all his Christmases and Birthdays were rolled into one, and he ran from lane to lane, undecided as to which bike to aim for first. Once there, he sampled each one. The other participants had to wait their turn.

For the second race, after weeks of practicing, Blake decided at the inopportune moment that - On Your Marks, Ready, Steady - was a complete waste of time, and had to be held back by his daddy to avoid disqualification.

Blake wept.

The gentleman with the funnel, then requested all the mommies and grannies to ditch their heels, and after a moment of stretching, they formed an orderly queue. The daddies and grampies, followed suite, and a good time was had by all.

Misty and Aunty Aimee, ran for a laugh and Granny Nonna, fell. Nick, talking on two mobiles at once, nearly missed his turn.

Daddy was also jokingly reprimanded, for false starts. Father, Son? Daddy and his mate, Matthew, took the sprint very seriously, and flew to the finish. After much debate and back-slapping, they decided on a tie.

But, the highlight was, Blake's Grampy, won, amidst, much jubilation!

One gym bunny mommy, togged in a tracksuit, ran with one arm behind her back, laughing like a hyena, leaving the competition and spectators wiping the dust from their eyes.

After, boerewors rolls and beverages, the teachers, may they always be blessed, cleared the fields for the more advanced obstacles, which included shapes and hoops.

Everything has a place, Blake, decided to stack these in an orderly fashion. Aunty Aimee and I, rapidly restored these items as the advanced classes proceeded to their places.

Blake pointed and wept.

He then spied a stray bike and all was well...

Blake's New Bed

Misty assembled Blake's new Toy Story bed.

Two hours it took. 15 minutes max on the instruction manual.

Blake, watching the construction of the bed intently and pointing from bed to bike, laughed so lustily he nearly stopped breathing.

As Misty also needed to regain her breath after the bed building, she flopped onto the couch to read a month old magazine.

Blake was pounding on the computer then stopped mid-press, looked at her, stood up and slowly walked over, and hugged and kissed her.

At bedtime Blake eagerly snuggled into his new bed and silence prevailed.

Around 2am, Misty hears :"Ma, Maa, Maah!"

"Go to your new bed, Blake."

Blake tip-toes to his room. Silence again. Then a chair is scraped back.

Twang! Twang!! Twang!!! Beethoven Blake is playing the piano.

"Go to your Toy Story bed, Blake," says Nick.

When Misty wakes up the following morning, Blake is sleeping on Nick's bottom and has one big toe in Misty's ear and the other up her nose.

"I like my bed, mommy," says Blake, "but yours is so much kinder."