Formal dining

I was seated with Wilson, Polly and Billi while Diesel shared a table with the sTone Brothers. 

The children had a table to themselves, and I wondered whether leaving them unsupervised was altogether wise. However, when they started messing about — bread-stick sword fighting, throwing paper aeroplanes and so on — Billi was able to quell it with a stern stare and a single raised eyebrow; impressive parenting skills, I thought!

The main course and the desserts were delicious, and W licked his plate clean. Also several other people's plates. Some of them had finished eating.

On the journey home we all sang the most carefree and joyous version of that melancholy favourite Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now I have ever heard, but by the time we eventually arrived back at the house everyone was sound asleep and I had to carry them all — including Wilson — inside and put them to bed.

This has been a brilliant birthday!

Are we there yet?

Following the picnic in the garden, the bees tidied away the leftover food while the children played tennis and argued about who would be Andy Murray ('You be Andy Murray!' 'No, YOU be Andy Murray!'). Wilson sang his Birthday Blues several more times, interspersed with a selection of Leonard Cohen and The Smiths songs. 

After a couple of hours he consulted the Mk2 WASTE clock and told everyone that it was time to get into the car for another surprise. When everyone was safely in he directed me to the Mystery Destination.

The distance was not great, but it took several hours to get there due to the difficulty of cornering with a goldfish in a bowl balanced on the back seat; the children's constant chorus of 'Are We There Yet?' made it seem even further.

But eventually — much to Diesel's relief — we turned into a car park and W announced that we had arrived!

Happy Birthday!

My birthday was brilliant! So brilliant that I didn't have time to blog about it yesterday, so here's what went down…

Wilson gave me my birthday present, which was the first prototype model of his Mk2 WASTE clock — he says that as the first prototype it will one day be hugely valuable and probably appear on the Antiques Road Show. 

Then he took me into the garden where everyone had prepared a picnic lunch! 

Before we started eating, he perched on the picnic hamper and sang me a song he had written specially for my birthday. It's called New Dad's Birthday Blues:

     My New Dad woke this morning

          Another year nearer the grave

     Yes, he woke up this morning

          A whole year nearer the grave 

     Ain't nothing he can do 'bout it,

          He's gonna have to be brave!

Unexpected item in bagging area

Wilson phoned me from the village to ask whether I could collect him from Tesco and drive him home with his shopping. He said he was still in the supermarket but would be ready to go by the time I arrived.

As I entered the store the first thing I saw was W having words with one of the self-service checkouts.  

'There'll be a VERY unexpected item in your bagging area in a minute!' he hissed at it, menacingly. 

Buffet?

I see we shall be having crisps, too. Cheese, olives and crisps.

Perhaps it's to be a buffet meal?

Food shopping

Wilson is in the village buying ingredients for the birthday dinner he plans to cook for me.

I can see from this photo that olives and cheese will be involved. 

This is good, as I like olives and cheese, especially a nice piece of Brie or Camembert; Pont l'Evenque or Stinking Bishop, not so much.

He usually spends altogether too long at the cheese counter, availing himself of the little free samples on cocktail sticks and trying to persuade the Cheese Department Manageress to stock cheese-with-ants, which is a Costa Rican delicacy. 

Allegedly. 

Wilson's question is answered!

When I came down to breakfast this morning, Wilson was waiting to tell me that one of his Twitter friends in Australia, Dr Mel (@Dr_Mel_Thompson) is a Medical Researcher and had answered his question about why towels get dirty.

Apparently, the dirt on used towels is made of dead skin and microbes! I had no idea! Nor, of course, had W who has vowed to start giving towels a boil wash next laundry day because 'Microbes are well yucky, and so is dead skin — eeeeeuw!' 

His alternative, labour-saving suggestion — that after I wash I just 'Shake yourself about a bit and drip dry, New Dad' — I rejected out of hand. 

Dr Mel is clearly a good influence, though, as W has promised that he will start washing his paws every week and before cooking. 

I hope he's not making himself a nuisance with her and stopping her from doing vital research — I'll have a word with him later. 

In the meantime he's popped into the village to buy the ingredients for the 'phenomenally wondrous' dinner he's going to cook for my birthday on Friday. 

I hope not too many ants are involved…

One of life's imponderables...

Sometimes Wilson takes my by surprise with a deceptively simple question which I can't readily answer. This morning he asked me:

'New Dad, why do towels get dirty? They're only used to dry the clean water that's left on you after you've washed or showered, so they should just stay clean.'

He's right, isn't he?

Something else to worry about...

Do other fathers, I wonder, have to hide away science journals as though they were smutty magazines? I like Wilson taking an interest in science and technology, but whenever he gets hold of a New Scientist he finds something in it to worry about. 

While researching the Quantum Entanglement Clock and the Dangers of Excessive Showering he's come across an article about feeding the world's increasing population on insects. 

'One of the scientists said that ants were "by a wide margin the most delicious insect we tasted"! If everyone starts eating ants, there won't be enough to go around, New Dad — there won't be enough for me!'

His quandary is, he doesn't know whether to stockpile ants for his own consumption, or market them to early-adopter gourmets as an expensive luxury indulgence…

Skip the shower

Presumably while scouring New Scientist for articles about the proposed Quantum Entanglement Clock, Wilson has come across an article explaining why showering every day is bad for one. 

I found it magnetted to the fridge door this morning, where I couldn't miss it. 

He's not trying to persuade me to shower less, he's trying to justify his showering habits. Daily showering is bad for you? I wish he'd have a yearly shower! 

Now he's read this, I'll never persuade him...

Mk II is on its way...

Having left the sTone brothers outside yesterday so they didn't frighten the children, Wilson showed his WASTE clock to them separately this morning. 

sTony said it looked a bit too complicated for him, he'd stick to measuring the length of his shadow if he ever needed to know the time. 

Which he never did. 

So W is now considering a simplified design for his Mk II WASTE Clock.

However, he's read in New Scientist about scientists at Harvard building a Quantum Entanglement Atomic Clock, and he's a bit worried that they may pinch his best clock-design ideas, 'Just like Mr Watson and Mr Crick pinched the DNA idea from poor Ms Rosalind Franklin!' he explained. 'That was SO unfair!'

There has still been no call from Radio Five... 

AT LAST — IT'S HERE!

This morning Wilson assembled everyone, even Diesel the Goldfish, in the kitchen to unveil his new invention, his Winter And Summer Timekeeping Equipment clock.

Everyone gazed admiringly as he explained how it worked. Boiled down from Wilson's 40 minute presentation: in the winter you tell the time using the grey numbers, while in the summer, during Daylight Saving Time, you use the blue numbers and you never have to put the clock forward or back an hour! That's it — simple.

Everyone nodded and agreed that it was very interesting, but honestly no one in his audience ever bothers with clocks or telling the time.

W was a little bit disappointed not to have had a call from Radio Five Live's Breakfast Show for his hero Nicky Campbell to interview him about his clock.

He ruminated for a minute before declaring, 'Tomorrow. They'll probably call tomorrow.' 

Tomorrow is Wilson's Big Day!

Leaving the youngsters repairing the goalpost and arguing about who would be Costa Rica in the next game, Wilson is rummaging about in his bedroom looking for his new clock invention prototype. 

While he's doing that, I would like to make an appeal on his behalf ('Make it an impassioned appeal, New Dad!' were his instructions) to everyone reading this to send it to a friend. 

Surprisingly, this is not to expose more people to my peerless prose but to increase the sales base of his Winter And Summer Timekeeping Equipment clock, which he will unveil publicly tomorrow. 

I hope that was impassioned enough! 

Thank you for your kind attention.

Offside!

I thought I knew what was coming next, but I was wrong. 

W continued. 'So I want to ask you, New Dad, to ask everyone who reads your AntWars2 blog to tell a friend about it. That way you will double your readership!'

'So twice as many people appreciate my writing?' I asked.

'So twice as many people will learn about my new Winter And Summer Timekeeping Equipment clock when I reveal it later this week!'

'Offside!' shouted Tiny Toy as he lay on the ground feigning an injury. 

TT has clearly been watching too much World Cup on tv — I must get Wilson to have a word with Antony about that.

Wilson has a serious talk with me

Wilson was sitting in the garden watching Tiny Toy play football with the Johnson Brothers when he called me over for what he called a 'serious talk.'

'Well, New Dad,' he began, 'the Solstice is passed and the nights are drawing in — what task do you think is worrying people most as winter approaches?'

On such a hot day I was surprised by this question, but I hazarded a guess: 'Christmas shopping? Shovelling snow?'

'Putting the clocks back!' he said, as though I hadn't spoken. 'People are dreading the time and effort of putting their clocks back an hour, or forward an hour in the southern hemisphere, as the case may be, and they will pay almost any sum to get out of doing that chore twice every year!'

Family Group Photograph

Wilson agreed to take a group photograph of the entire bee family, even though it would mean using up his last sheet of Polaroid film. (He said this quite pointedly to me, so I think that's my cue to buy him some more.)

He had just arranged everyone nicely for the photo when the sTone Brothers sidled up and pointed out that, since they are now honorary bees, they ought to be in the photograph too.  

Billi groaned and rolled her eyes, but Polly said, 'Oh, come on then, but keep to the outside. At the back. Further back!'

Wilson has thoughtfully written everyones name on the photo, in case anyone forgets who they are.

Wilson makes a gaffe

Wilson examined the diminutive insect closely, watched over protectively by its proud parents. 

'Hello little… er, thing.' he said by way of introduction, before turning to Billi and asking, 'Can it do any tricks?'

Billi bristled angrily, but Polly pretended not to notice this social gaffe and asked W whether he would take a group photograph of their whole family that she and Billi could hang in the hive.

A new addition to the family!

'But I added Johnson last time!' Wilson exclaimed. 'You made him an Honorary Bee, which I didn't altogether agree with, but I put my reservations aside and counted him in the survey!'

'That was our first child,' Polly beamed, 'This is our youngest, Johnson Minor. Do try to keep up!'

The bees moved aside, revealing a diminutive black-and-red figure that bore little resemblance to a bee.

'Why are both your children called Johnson?' W demanded.

'All ladybirds are called Johnson,' Billi explained. 'Haven't you ever heard of the famous "Lady Bird Johnson"?'

Selfie

Wilson finally burst into the kitchen brandishing a Polaroid in his paw.

'Look everyone, I've done a Selfie in the bathroom!' he exclaimed, proudly waving it in the bees' faces. 'I'm going to post it on Twitter and be a Twitter Celebrity!'

Once it had been admired to his satisfaction, he asked the bees what they had wanted to see him about, and Polly replied that they needed him to log in to the Bee Survey site again.

W sighed and patiently explained that neither Antony, Tiny Toy, Diesel the Goldfish or even he himself could be Honorary Bees. 'I'd be drummed out of the Science Club if anyone found out!' he said apologetically.

'No, no, it's not that!' Billi interrupted. 'We need you to update the survey by adding our new child, Johnson!'

A queue for the bathroom...

I was awoken this morning by Wilson's muffled cries of 'Go away! I'm busy!'

Stumbling from my bedroom to see what was going on I was most surprised to see a queue outside the bathroom door. Surprised because Polly and Billi have their own bathroom in the hive and because Wilson is well known for his dislike of water — the only time he ever uses the bathroom is when he pretends to shower to stop me nagging him about washing.

Eventually the door opened a crack and W's head emerged.

'What is it?' he demanded tersely, 'What do you want?'

Polly replied that they needed to speak with him on a matter of some urgency.

W replied, 'Wait for me in the kitchen and I'll come down when I'm finished!' before slamming the door. 

His muffled voice then added, 'You could make some coffee while you're waiting, if you like.'