Friday, September 18, 2009
I spy with my little eye something beginning with J
I am sitting at my ‘puter humming the James Bond theme tune, getting louder when I reach the ‘dun-na dun-na na’ bit for emphasis. Yes I have taken up espionage, what could possibly be so exciting in a little rural village attached to vast plains of rice fields you ask? Well? Nothing really just my son at school! The sound of a needle being scratched across a record is now very audible in my head (and yours probably). Yes, I have taken to spying on my son.
First it was purely by accident-ish, I’d been shopping and happened to arrive back home and notice it was playtime so I casually and kerb-crawler slowly drove past the school to get a glimpse of J. I did see him but he looked a little bit sad playing on his own in the gravel. Oh no, my poor boy! I then did the same in the afternoon and again the next morning. Worried that I might get myself arrested or something, although there probably isn’t a law against it I’d surely be a bit of a laughing stock amongst the more hardened Catalan Mamas, I needed to find another way to see what was happening.
As luck would have it I discovered that if I stand on my balcony, at the very edge on the right hand side then I can see the last 3rd of the school playground some 250 metres up the road and also the very classroom door that J is sat behind from 9 till 12 and again from 3 till 5. So there I am at playtime, which incidentally seems to last a long time 10.45 to 11.30, getting the occasional flash of orange hair and whatever clothing ensemble he is wearing that day. I find myself willing him up the top end of the playground so I might be able to judge whether or not he is having a good time. My mission is somewhat flawed by my inability to see that far due to my shortsightedness and the fact that t’husband takes the binoculars to work with him. *Note to self – sneak binos out of t’husband’s rucksack when he’s not looking*.
I know that J is enjoying school, he goes in fine and unlike some of his classmates who wail and cling onto their Mamas for dear life, J just kisses me and skips off to join the back of his snakelike queue for his class. When I pick him up he’s full of the joys of spring and bragging about pee-peeing on the toilet (quite whether this is true or not remains to be proven) so is the spying necessary? No of course it’s not, but I can’t help it, maybe because it's too easy to! Oh well, only 3 years until he moves up to the next school which is further along the road and definitely out of view from any point in my apartment, I know, I've already checked.