Thank crikey for phallic pot plants.
When I got home from work, it was still warm, so I took Boy Wonder into the garden for a kickabout.
He set off towards the back fence to take up his usual position and I sent the ball down that end. I don’t why I decided to chip it, rather than pass it gently along the ground, but I looked up just in time to see it smack Boy Wonder right on the back of his head.
The shot sent him sprawling into the gravel patch at the foot of the garden. In the couple of seconds it took me to reach him, tears were flowing down his cheeks.
Bad luck for my little cherub, obviously. Bad luck for me as well because at the exact moment the Duchess was looking out from the kitchen window.
Maybe the evening sun was getting to me because turning towards my furious wife, Boy Wonder still whimpering in my arms, I cracked a smile and said: ‘Some shot, hey? If I’d been aiming for him, I’d probably have sent the ball flying over the fence’.
For the next few seconds, my married life flashed before my eyes. The Duchess’ eyes narrowed from comprehension to fury and I steadied myself for the whirlwind.
I looked at my feet, ready to pay for my sins, when I spotted something extraordinary down by the garage wall. Words can’t do it justice, so here it is in all of it’s glory:
The Duchess, a keen horticulturist, couldn’t keep a straight face and the three of us fell about laughing – the Boy Wonder in that nervous, false way when kids don’t understand what’s going on but laugh along anyway.
So, I’m not completely unlucky. Childish, maybe. But fortunate, as well. And what about that shot…