>Port Talbot is Batshit crazy.
Hardly a revelation I know, yet it’s true. You walk through the centre of town on any given day and you will see some fantastic examples of the unhinged massive in all their fist-shaking, world-cursing glory.
For instance there’s someone who I saw with what was either a massive MP3 player or a home made PKE meter. He had a Sporticus backpack. He was at least 60 years old (ear hair gives it away).
I also saw a man shout at his sandwich and throw it on the floor. He then walked away composed himself and on his way back he lost it again. He stamped on it so hard a piece of tomato flew out and hit a nearby bin and slowly slid down the side of it like the local drunk after a White Lightning binge.
You see, my worry is that (and I think it’s starting to happen) when you’re exposed to this insanity it’ll start to rub off. You can think something that seems perfectly normal and when you say it out loud you get a look that’s half bemusement and half “keep him happy while I call a specialist”. But what some people don’t realise it that being a parent to a one year old will speed the process up. I’m sure that other parent’s can back me up on this.
With children you will do all sorts of things and make all sorts of noises to keep them entertained. You’ll try anything to get that one or two nuggets of fried gold that’ll amuse them and you build up a repertoire that will stop them figuring out the conundrum that is the door handle.
With my Son I have several of these nuggets. One such example it running back and fore holding him, shouting “CHARGE!”. For him it’s the equivalent of Morecambe and Wises’ Breakfast sketch. Another such one is pretending to eat his chest or hand and uttering the immortal phrase “nom-nom-nom”.
Like I say, any other situation and they’re after you with the butterfly nets.
But it works, it makes him laugh and makes him happy which is all we want to give our children; happiness and love. The Disney channel helps as well.
So after a day when the boy has gone to bed me and my wife can sit in the lovely silence (not including the buzz of the baby monitor), we can reflect on the wonderful son we have and look forward to the arrival of the new baby at the end of July. We had such a day and I took my wife’s hand to hold and gave it a gentle kiss.
Except I didn’t.
I meant to, but instead I uttered the immortal words “nom-nom-nom”.
The insanity continues…