Monday, 18 January 2016
Apologies to all you dog lovers out there, but I am not one of you. I do not like dogs and I find the fascination with them completely unfathomable. I'm also a teensie bit scared.
Walking to school a few weeks ago I was leapt upon and viciously attacked by a fearsome wolf. Ok, it was an Alsatian who jumped at me and bit my coat. Had I not used my well practised super-ninja-mother-of-boys-moves, those sharp teeth would have sunk their way into my leg. I was shaken up and arrived home to have a good sob on Toby's shoulders. (It was one of those rare moments when you see a glimpse of the man they are becoming. It was a good glimpse.)
Time travel forwards a few weeks (you mean you don't time travel?) and you will find a puffed out me half running behind Jonah on his new bike. Just beyond us on our path is another Alsatian.
Jonah looks at me as I wonder how to navigate this drooling obstacle. I decide to be brave and keep walking.
But my sweet and thoughtful boy surprises me by climbing off his bike and pushing it so that he is between me and the dog.
"I'm protecting you, Mum." He explains as my heart melts just a little bit more.
"Well thank you," I reply. "But really I should be protecting you."
"Oh no," he smiles at me, "if the dog is going to bite someone's leg off then I would rather it was mine than yours."
"I don't think it is going to bite anyone's leg off, but if it does then really I would rather it was mine." I know I'm right - that's what a good mother should do.
"Yes but if your leg is bitten off then you won't be able to cook my tea or make me snacks or do my washing or any of the other jobs you do."
Ah. Now we get to the crux of the matter. He wasn't protecting me, after all!
Eight year old boy logic at it's very best.
And this, dear readers, is one of the many reasons I love boys.