And so life goes on...
This morning we had another disagreement. The Boy says Matt Smith is the best Dr Who. I disagreed. I couldn't really care less, especially at 8 in the morning, but if I want him to talk on the long car journey to school, it has to be his subject choice. I told him David Tennant was the best Doctor. He told me that was rubbish, because "has David Tennant ever fighted a spaceship of dinosaurs? No? Matt Smith has". We kept the discussion going, it's nice when he talks passionately about one of his subjects, he becomes animated and alive.
As 9am approached and the schoolgates were nearing we were no closer to reaching a decision as to which one was the best. I wanted to teach The Boy that there are ways to reach agreement on something in a grown-up fashion. So, I said that when he gets home tonight, to decide who was the best Dr Who, we will do what most people would do in this situation. We will have a dance-off.
He picked the song. Labrinth - Earthquake. And I know I should let him win. He's only ten and he's my son. But, a challenge is a challenge... I've come home and I've been practicing. And let me tell you, I reckon I've got this one in the bag.
My dance skills were the stuff of legend at Drama School over twenty years ago. I know that to this day, people still speak in hushed tones about my solo rendition of 'Vogue' by Madonna. Some of us are just blessed with the agility and flexibility that being a dancer requires. I recognise a few cynical people might point out the reason they chucked me out of Drama School was because I didn't turn up to my dance exam re-sits. But in my defence, if they'd scheduled them in the morning I would have done. It's just that by the third pint, they didn't seem quite so important. Looking back, I think I was just ahead of my time.
So, this evening, at 5pm, to a tune he didn't even know existed until three hours ago, John Williams dances again. And David Tennant will be crowned the best Doctor.
Turns out I quite like things not being normal after all.
This blog is about bringing up The Boy. He's 12 years old and autistic. It's written by The Dad. It's my words, my view. Other people will think differently and have different opinions. Good.