
You see, he is not content for his Mummy to sit idly by and watch him play. Instead, a typical play drill goes something along the lines of this:
Harrison: “Fall Down!” (To which I dutifully oblige and lay sprawled across floor). He will then race to my side and place his little hands near my head and order “Push! Puu-uuu-sss-hhh!!” until I am at sitting position. Not appeased he them demands “Up a day, UP A DAY!” until I am on my feet. Then he’ll order “kicking, KICKING!” which means running around with a ball like a crazy person and kicking to him. Throw in a game of catch, and of “tackle and roll away” (his version of footy), it will continue on over and over again until I fall exhausted into a heap. Unfortunately this then unconsciously signals the commencement of a new game – “Nigh Nigh” which warrants jumping all over me. Cue ducking and weaving to avoid being clocked in the head by a wayward kiddie knee.
Of course I am a content contributor to the fun and games to a certain point – its just after the 50th repetition of the active and energetic entertainment, I become a little weary… and unwilling to participate any further…! How then does one extract themselves from this? You get grandparents in to stay – hey presto and you have swapped your combat boots for ugh boots!
In all reality, its probably not a bad thing that my son insists on me being such a ready participant in his games. Finding the time to exercise is proving trickier than scoring a car park at the local Westfield’s on Easter Saturday… Incidental exercise has become the catchphrase of the year. When time (or the overly curious son) does not allow for Wii-Fit, then one must make do via improvisation. And perhaps then the key to keeping the chocolate indulgence at bay is baby boot-camp!
