Home of Mr Bashy

We went to Legoland again last Thursday, as Daisy’s school was closed for polling day. So were most of the schools in England though, and most of the parents had the same idea, and our queue had a computer failure.. might have well as gone at half-term like we did last year for time we spent queueing to get in, though in truth once we were it was a lot less busy, you couldn’t swing a Lego cat in there last year, and the waiting times were a lot less than they were. By the end of the evening (they stayed open till seven and we stuck it out) you could walk onto some rides without waiting.

The first thing we went on was The Dragon – it pooters through a sort of cave for a while before you go out in the open air and the cars seem to be climbing some sort of steep hill — AARGH! ROLLERCOASTER!! FEAR!!! — and that was pretty much it for me going on big rides. Mum and Daisy went on one and got wet though.

We went lots of other things, though, as unlike last year I have broken the magic 1.0 meter height-mark (if you’re less than that and you can walk, don’t bother going, there’s very little you can do). I liked the driving school best (I lapped most of the other contenders) and then there was a sort of racing video game (very heavy steering, my extensive practice at Mario Kart Wii wasn’t much help) and flying spinning helicopters and play areas and a picnic .. At first I found the Fairy Tale boat ride a little scary, but then we decided it was just a bit weird, as was the Giant Spider Spinning Web ride, which seemed designed to make you feel aphid and afraid.

The mini Lego cities I really liked – all that James sized transport tittering about, little boats and trains and cars running on wires and timers: one lad had marched over the railing and was standing in one of the mini town squares, towering over the buildings like Boyzilla, while his mother fairly hissed at him to try and get him out without shouting so loudly it would attract attention. He seemed to be under the impression he had accidentally and blamelessly wandered off the track and into Siena or Vienna or wherever, then again we all know that trick.

And home: I was wired, Daisy was tired, she slept the whole way back and straight to bed when we got home: I had a nap in the car, then sat watching the cars on the motorway all the way home and stayed up as long as I could, not wanting the day to end.

My cousin Felix gave me a Superman costume for Christmas: at the time, I was a tad underwhelmed, not having quite the understanding of superheroes I have now.

Today was it’s day, though: me and Daisy like to go through the dressing up box on Saturday mornings while Mum’s at work and Dad’s snoring in bed: I woke him up so he could dress me in said Superman costume, and I wore it all day, sockless and commando: I wore it to the shop to get lunch, I wore it to the park, I would have worn it to bed if Mum had let me..

My new name for Auntie Margaret.. she take it in great spirit though and ooh-ooh-oohs with enthusiasm. I think she probably secretly prefers it to being called Marge..

A few weeks ago I started stammering – only under certain circumstances, usually when talking to someone: if I’m doing toy role-play or singing, I don’t stammer at all.

I do find it immensely frustrating: after a few da-da-da-da’s my head is leaning back and nothing’s coming out: I slump forwards and say ‘I Lost My Words’. Everyone’s being very patient with me, though – well, Daisy got a bit fed up at first but now she’s with the program – and eventually I can say ‘My Words Came Back!’

It’s been up and down – at first, it happened nearly all the time, then it almost went away, but now it’s back again when I really want to communicate something or initiate a conversation, and when I’m tired. Still, it’s common in children my age and especially boys.

What with my Spiderman obsession, I like to pretend I’m Spiderman punching bad guys. I’m only allowed to do it with Dad, who is being the Sandman – we trade punches, I throw a few roundhouse lefts and rights then slip one right under his guard and into his gut..

So, I never mentioned I have a new playschool, it isn’t actually called Cheap As Chips but that’s what Mum and Dad seem to call it. I like it just fine, especially as it’s right next to Rocket Park which has just been made-over with lots of new playthings, though they got rid of the old rocket which gave it it’s name :(

My latest obsession, my number one craze, is Being First: I want to be first to everything, first in the car, first out the car, first to the end of the road, I want to win all my races with Daisy (even though she’s obviously a lot faster than me), I want to open the door when the doorbell rings (with supervision, of course) and so on.

What else have I been up to? Hmm. Ah yes, playing on the Wii: I have the WALL-E game, which got some terrible reviews but I don’t care (especially as it only cost me £7 of my birthday money second-hand), and I’m working my way through our old GameCube games, playing them in my own special way:

For example in Spiderman II, I climb Spiderman to the top of the tallest building in the immediate vicinity, jump him off the top and land on his face: laugh, and do it again. Alternatively, go to the water’s edge and fling myself in: rinse and repeat, ad infinitum. I also like Tony Hawk’s Skateboarding, especially the Foundry level in TS3 where I ollie myself into pits of molten metal to it’s somewhat molten metal soundtrack.

The other thing that possesses me is ‘Who’s going to be in front tonight?’ This is for when me and Daisy have our tea in front of the TV (posh we’re not..) – one of us gets to go right in front and one goes to the side. It was thought that when we got our new TV that it would mean we could both be in front, but the habit is ingrained now and, anyway, it’s not that big.

I usually start asking around when I get home from playschool or when Daisy gets home from school: we take it in turns to be in front. If I get the wrong answer – i.e. it’s not my turn – I let out one of those long drawn-out ‘awwws’ only us kids can do properly, but I resign myself to it quickly enough. Trouble is, even when I’ve had the answer – and qualified it with lots of sub-questions or assertions like ‘Daisy sat in front yesterday..?’ – and regardless of whether it’s my turn or Daisy’s turn – I carry on asking the question in tones ranging from querying to querulous until I’ve driven everyone half mad and I’ve been threatened with losing my turn if I ask that @#$grawlix%&? question one more time. At which point I say quite crossly ‘Don’t say that word!!’ – which is to be honest quite ironic, as I had a bit of a swearing phase a few weeks ago, but I’m over it now, more or less.

PS I’m going to make a project out of using all the other terms in the Lexicon Of Comicana – collect the whole set!

When we’re looking to blame someone for something – who drew on a book, say, or who was responsible for a DVD getting so scratched it won’t play – we generally blame the black cat who comes into our garden and, when feeling brave or feeling bored, tries to come through the cat flap causing our cat Millie to erupt in a (somewhat feeble) display of yowling and hissing. It’s not her territory she’s worried about, it’s her food.. We used to be a bit scared of it, like we are of dogs (although some severe and vicious teasing has reduced that particular fear) but not so much now we have humanised it..

While scootering up to get Daisy from school, I took a tumble and landed on my nose and Got Blud. Lots of blood, it wouldn’t stop bleeding all the way up to get Daisy and all the way home. And guess what – when we got to school Daisy wanted to (and did) go rond to Ruby’s so we didn’t even have to go.

While I was bleeding on my Spiderman t-shirt and the road and Being Brave, some students went past: one of them had a balloon and they gave it to me. Wasn’t that kind!

Eventually I realised today was my birthday (or burfday, as I would say) – I went out with Mum this morning, came back for lunch with a Spiderman action figure and car: Daisy came back from school while I was figuring out how to play Spiderman II on our Wii (in GameCube mode): she had her best friend Ruby with her, and I opened my presents, having been repeatedly prised from the bedroom where they had been kept.

I’ve got a bike! I can’t wait to ride it, and a basketball hoop which we’ve put up on my bedroom wall. I insisted I wanted it high up, then proceeded to drag a stool across so I could slamdunk into it. I got oodles of spondulies as well, not sure what to spend those on (although a giant talking Lightning McQueen seems the likeliest, but of course now I’ve hit the magic 36 months I can have any toy I want on the grounds I won’t choke on the small pieces)

We then set off for Funplex where we met up with Ben and Emily. We all had a great time (I particularly like the softball cannons they have) and then retired back here for sausages and chips, my favourite meal, and a Dalek Cake mum made for me, and then bed. Zzzzzzz…

As English contains a great deal of redundant information (ie context) it doesn’t really matter that I get my consonants mixed up – “I’ll go for bath in a mimmit”, “I fell on my dottom”, and tonight – while retreating from the fine-toothed comb – “I haven’t got mitts!”