Wedding date announced!

By the time I came down to breakfast this morning, Wilson had magnetted the bees' list of possible wedding dates to the fridge door. There were 25 dates on the list… and he had an objection to every one of them.

I took the list into the garden, where I found him sandpapering his beehive, and asked him about his reasons for rejecting some of the dates.

'Lumpy Rug Day?' I asked him. 'Really? Dance Like a Chicken Day? Yo-Yo day?'

He raised his eyebrows and replied, 'They're traditional celebrations, New Dad — anteaters the world over will be celebrating, for example, Tap Dance Day on 25 May!'

'Pink Day', I countered, 'would be a brilliant day for an all-girl wedding! Or Camera Day — we'll be taking loads of photos anyway!'

W stared at the ground, saying nothing.

I switched to my stern voice and asked him, 'Look, you've listed TWO Juggling Days — couldn't you give up one of those?'

'Alright,' he sighed, 'I suppose so. I'll give up the second one. I'll go and tell the girls.'

So, Polly- and Billi-B will be getting married on 13 June — keep the day clear!

Wedding dates

As soon as we got home, before we had a chance to unload the bee hive from the car roof, Polly-B and Billi-B dragged Wilson inside to show him their list of possible wedding dates.

W examined it thoughtfully, then pointed out that 'Some of these dates have already passed!'

'Yes, but that's because we started work on this list so long ago,' Billi replied.

Wilson took the list of dates, together with his iPad and his best green marker pen, and retired to the tumble dryer to consider. Leaving me to unload the bee hive single-handed.

It's a lot heavier than you might think. Even when there aren't any bees in it.

Wedding venue

As we continued our journey home, I mentioned that a full sized bee hive seemed a bit excessive — I'd thought the wedding guests could stay in the now-vacated little 'bee hotel' by the asteroid shelter in the garden. Wilson soon put me straight about that, however, asking me whether I had any idea how many bees Polly- and Billi-B would be inviting. 

'There'll be thousands of them, New Dad — thousands! They'll invite their entire colonies, and they'll all be expecting a nice sit-down meal at the reception! We won't get away with a buffet, especially if The Queen comes!'

He then went on to explain that while his initial idea had just been the Bee Wedding Florists, having his own hive opened up new possibilities: he was going to convert the garden into a dedicated same-sex bee wedding venue! 

Wilson reveals his Business Plan...

We carried the beehive back to the car, tied it on to the roof with some rope we bought from a ship's chandlers, and set off for home. I drove very carefully and slowly, not wanting to be stopped by the police and have to explain why I had a beehive tied to my car… especially if Wilson joined in and started telling them about his Bee Wedding. 

A night in the cells is not on my Bucket List!

On the journey home, Wilson revealed his 'Great Idea'. Since the village florist had been unable to supply most of the flowers he wanted for the Bee Wedding, he planned to raise his own flowers from seed and supply them through a specialist shop he planned to open, catering exclusively for bees getting married. 

'There are millions of bees in the country, New Dad,' he explained, 'and mine will be the only shop able to supply them with flowers when they get married! I shall have the Bee Wedding Monopoly!'

Wilson makes a purchase. I pay for it. Obviously.

As we made our way back to the car park — Wilson asking me whether I'd like his autograph now he was a racing driver, me insisting that he could NOT drive the car home — he suddenly fell silent. 

I followed his gaze to the pavement display of a junk/antique shop.

'I have GOT to have that!' he exclaimed, dragging me over to see what had caught his eye. 'It will be perfect for putting up all the bees' friends and relations over the wedding!'

Sebastian Vettel watch out!

Ever since we've been coming to Hastings, Wilson has craved a go on the Go-Karts. In the past I've always told him he's too young, but he's almost seven now and I think he's just about old enough to ride responsibly. 

Here you can see him just pulling out of the Pit Lane for his first lap. 

Every time he passed the Finish line he punched the air, shouting, 'Take that, Vettel!', 'Eat dust, Hamilton!' and the like

This is harder than it looks...

Next on Wilson's Schedule of Fun was a go on the trampolines. I paid for a 15-minute session, but after only five he was lying on his back and gasping for breath. 

He told me afterwards that, like many things, it was much more difficult than it looks. 

Once he'd got his breath back he earnestly assured me that the only thing which would help him recover was a 99 ice cream. And some barley sugar sweets. And some chocolate truffles. 

Back outside he critically compared the size of his ice cream with the display model in front of the shop. He said that there should be a law against misleading advertising and, if he weren't so busy with the wedding preparations, he'd take it up with his MP.