He is of dark blond hair and depending on his form, blue green eyes. A creature of habit is Screecher Creature No. 2. He likes to sit on the same chair each morning for his breakfast, which must be made with cold milk and have honey drizzled on it. He is surprisingly fond of broccoli and will thieve it from my plate whether or not I am looking. He has a fondness for watching Scooby Doo, is particularly good at jig saws and currently going through a very competitive phase with his two and a half year old brother. The trampoline gets great use and my heart almost stops each time I see him on it. I fear for his neck as terrifying somersaults are performed with shouts of “did you see that?” afterwards. He is bursting to get to big school and next September cannot come quickly enough for him. He likes to speak his own brand of Irish and torments his older brother no end when it’s time for the old obair. Screecher Creature No. 1 reluctantly reads the leabhar and Screecher Creature No. 2 will recite it back from memory. Delighted with himself because as far as he is concerned, he is reading. He has a “good ear” and a “bad ear” and the bad ear makes “two different sounds” on a daily basis so he will be having grommets fitted in January to rectify this. He has been heard to roar “Come back! I want to hurt you!” in outrage after his older brother.
Some of his most prized possessions include a Spiderman suit, books such as Room on The Broom and The Gruffalo’s Child.
He went through a very intense, but not as short lived as I would have liked, phase of stripping naked. Small children on our old estate would stop in their tracks to look at the strange naked child running around the road. He didn’t give a fiddlers! He likes to get his own way every so often and can get bent out of shape over the smallest and most inconsequential occurrences. One of them being his Kinder Surprise containing a toy he already has. Mr. Winkle, the shopkeeper, gets the blame as he is supposed to know what’s inside them all. I love it when he produces a flower from behind his back and hands it to me, his eyes shining. Even if it is, most often than not, a dandelion.
He clashes with his older brother on a regular basis, can be surprisingly unaware of his younger brother’s attempts to settle a score and is infinitely affectionate with his baby brother.
His whole universe can be thrown off kilter at a missed opportunity to go for a drive in his daddy’s jeep and threats of there being no hugs ever, ever again for either me or Mister Husband can follow.
Happy birthday, Beedir! And I’m sorry. Sorry that your celebrations fall on a holiday. And a Christmas one. You don’t verbalise it but I know you feel hard done by. It’s a hard old station when your birthday falls so close to Christmas. I promise I will never allow it to be superceeded by the New Year. You shall go to the ball! Starting this year! How does a family celebration at an indoor entertainment centre grab you? It’s small I know but it caused you no end of frustration and torment earlier on this winter when you watched your older brother going there for his many friends’ birthday parties and you couldn’t go. This time the spotlight will be on you. And next year, you will have new friends of your own from Big School and there will be a party proper at home complete with a Lightening McQueen birthday cake.
You make me laugh, you make me want to tear my hair out. You come out with the craziest things, you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re stubborn, you’re loyal. You’re a headcase, you’re sensitive. You’re an early riser, you suck your thumb. You rock my world!