The postman always rings twice

This morning, at long last, Wilson received the letter for which he has been waiting so expectantly — a reply from Boris Johnson (or as W describes him, 'Mister Boris, Lord Mayor of London Town').

W read and re-read it several times before passing it to me. He is now deep in thought considering his reply.

I must say Boris does sound quite enthusiastic about W's plan… although he doesn't yet know what that plan is.

Nor how much it will cost.

The Spirit of Christmas Presents...

Wilson and I went out and did a bit of Xmas shopping yesterday. Once he'd seen all the street lights and the decorations in the shops, he started to get well into the Xmas Spirit!

I'll take him to see Father Xmas soon… and I'd better give some thought to what to buy him for Xmas...

One of our Letters is Missing!

Still no recurrence of the 'reality' issue, but Wilson is getting increasingly concerned that he has not heard from Boris Johnson. 

He told me that a million letters go missing every week, and he is afraid that this potentially life-changing missive could be one of them. 

Even as I write this, he is on the phone to the Missing Letters Department of the Post Office.

Business opportunity!

Wilson and I had breakfast without any mention of 'reality' or 'source code' or any of the issues that have been troubling him recently. All such thoughts have apparently been displaced by another of his 'brilliant ideas,' which he explained to me over coffee.

'Unless I've got this wrong,' he started, 'the country is having a bit of a rough patch, financially. Am I right?'

I nodded.

'So people who are feeling the pinch disposable income-wise just don't have the cash to splash on things which they may, quite wrongly, see as luxuries.'

'I suppose so,' I conceded.

'So, the solution is clear: I shall start a hire service for ODDSIES! where people can rent a pair for a few days! I shall look for suitable premises in Uckfield to be the headquarters of my hiring empire!'

I'm not so sure this would be as popular as W thinks. Hiring socks seems a strange concept to me… but if it stops him worrying about whether or not he is 'real' I don't want to discourage him in any way! 

I think I'll try to steer him towards running this as an on-line enterprise for the time being, though, rather than splashing out on rent. 

Films aren't real. Usually.

Today I have tried to reassure Wilson that Source Code was just a film — a made-up story that isn't real. I reminded him of how he went to visit the studio that made Moon, showing him the souvenir clapper-board the film crew gave him. 

'If you'd got that part of William in Star Wars, that would have been just a film too — you'd have been acting, just pretending to be William. None of these films are true!' I told him.

'What, like Titanic?' he asked.

I had to admit, he'd got me there.

Deja Vu

Remembering the psychiatrist's advice from Wilson's last existential crisis, this morning I took him for a walk in Boothland Woods up by the roundabout. He trailed along behind me morosely, saying it was very pretty, but any minute he'd get jerked back to 'The Pod' and be ordered around by 'Colleen Goodwin' and 'Dr Rutledge' before being sent back here to the woods again. 

'I already feel like I've been here before, many times,' he said.

'Of course you do' I replied. 'That's because you have — we come here all the time!'

'Can I borrow your cellphone, New Dad? I have to find out who I really am! You know me as "Wilson" of course, but you're only part of the source code. I'm probably a brilliant and brave chopper pilot or something… or at least, I was...'

The trouble with movies...

Last night we all gathered on the sofa with Wilson to see the movie Source Code. We all really enjoyed it (apart from Tiny Toy who, lets be honest, has the attention span of a strawberry) tucking in to popcorn and Cheesy Wotsits while we watched. 

Around 2.30am I felt Wilson creeping in to my bed. After a few minutes he whispered to me, 'New Dad, I'm not part of the source code am I?'

'Of course you're not!' I whispered back, 'You are about the least source code-y person I know. You really don't need to worry about that. Just try to relax and go to sleep.'

I let him stay in my bed for the rest of the night but honestly, I should never have allowed him to see the film. If he ever watches Inception, or Waking Life, the psychiatrist's bills will surely bankrupt us!

Photographs of the lovely WILSON are by Tamanduagirl at 

http://www.livingwithanteaters.com/ and are used by kind permission.