Paul Davidson
Weeknotes 026: Eggs come from chickens
Let’s not bury the lede this week. Piglet had her first sleep out. F■■■ yes!
She spent the night at Lǎolao and Lǎoyé’s and we were filled with the spirit of teenage rebellion. Takeaway arrived during what would be bath-time. We watched a movie with the sound up. We went to bed late without fear of interruption. We left knives, glasses and TV remote lying about when we went to bed. We stomped on the stairs. We unplugged the monitor. You know, the usual old-person teenage stuff.
Earlier in the week I knocked off work early to light our first BBQ of the year. With the guideline relaxations, we could have my parents round. Piglet did her best to kill Grandad with non-stop running. Like the spring day around us, we could see the first shoots of post-pandemic life. My folks repaid in kind with a Sunday Roast for Easter Day.
We snuck out to South Shields beach on Good Friday. It was warmer than when we last met our friends there. They’d brought mini eggs with them. Piglet, on hearing the word chocolate, switched from playing to sidling. She nudged The Chef, coyly curious, to remind us she was still there with a hopeful half-smile.
About par for her new cheekiness. I came downstairs on my lie-in day to find her sat at the table eating blood orange, drinking tea and pointing out the “Blue tits over there”. She’s not two yet.
The sleep streak is over. Teething again. One night while singing 宝宝贝 (Bǎo bǎobèi to the tune of Brahm’s Lullaby) she bolted up to say “kitty cat” and then started singing 猫猫喵 (Māomāo miāo / kitty cat meow) to the same tune. Which is pretty impressive ad libbing from someone I thought was already asleep.
The morning after that refusal to sleep, Twirlywoos went on while I topped up on coffee. The Twirlywoos were being their usual exasperating selves and taking things too far till the ship, having had enough of their s■■■, blew its horn and stopped the nonsense. I love that ship. It me.
That said, when I do grump at her she’ll start crying and saying “everything, everything.” I don’t think it means what she thinks. At one point she got so stressed she backed away and said “爸爸上班班” (Bàba shàngbān bān / Daddy, go to work) until I left the room.
Better rested we’ll read The Lion and the Bird together. There’s a bittersweet bit which set me off trying to think of other oxymoronic compounds like bittersweet. It’s common in beginner’s Chinese, but I struggled in English before I cheated. There are only three good words on that list, so I’ll stick with my initial conclusion that it’s not common in English. And I’m left wondering why.
I missed two days of stretches and I have a bad back. There was no disclaimer that I’d have to do this every day for the rest of my life. Unless the disclaimer is that I’m old.
After a few weeks of disco-adjacent binge listening, a new Nick Cave album will always monopolise. I like the new sound that he and Warren have found for themselves. This morning is amazing and so are you.
5 April 2021