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Never play i-spy with a child...here’s why

Eye spy | Bold AF blog | #sayitinbold @Boldornaked Picture this. Sat in the beer garden of my favourite pub, drinking chilled sauvignon blanc, it’s sunny, there’s butterflies and I’m with friends. This is how I imagine heaven to be. Not that I’m imagining me and my friends dead, but if heaven is like this I’d be happy when the time comes.

And then in a flash, this heavenly experience is transformed instantly into hell. More friends arrive and they have kids. FFS, how to kill bliss in one easy step. Bring the ‘effin’ kids along. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t resent anyone having kids, I’m sure some can be acceptable, it’s just I don’t like them around me, or interacting with me, especially when I’m in a happy state of mind.

“Wanna play i-spy?” asks Emily the 8 year old I dreaded sitting next to me and who had, in fact, sat next to me.

And what kid plays i-spy these days? I thought they just sat on x-boxes all day. Sadly not.

“OK” I said (at least she didn’t want a conversation about boys).

At this point, my heavenly retreat had attracted a small rabbit from the hedge line. Perfect timing, “i-spy with my little eye, something beginning with B“. I’m thinking ‘bunny rabbit’ and the one I’ve spied is small, and I’m pretty sure baby rabbits are called bunnies.

“Bee”

‘Yes the letter b” I confirm,

“No....bee, like buzz buzz bee”

“Do you see a bee?” I enquire,

“No”

“OK, so it’s not a bee then is it?”

“Building” says Emily as she points at the pub.

“Nope”.

“Boy”

“No”

“Bag”

“Nah”

“Beer”

“Nope”

“Beer glass”

“No”

“Beer mat”

“No”

“Beer barrel”

“Look it’s nothing to do with beer, ok”. I swear, if she suggests, ‘beer-battered fish’ Emily’s day is gonna go real bad, real quick.

“Blade of grass”

“Seriously?”

“Birds”

‘No”

‘Bar”

“Nein”

“Ball”

“Niet”

“Baby”

“Oh god, there’s a baby here?” There was, but thankfully, asleep in the shade.

“Battery.....” she hastily added, “...in your phone”, clearly seeing my face turn red, and as sure-as-shit, it wasn’t a suntan forming.

“Nope, it’s not battery. Give up yet?” I said encouragingly.

“No, this is fun.....Butterfly?”

“No”

“Beef”

“Beef? Beef? Where’s the b...”

“On the menu....Roast beef”.

“Wow, now you’re gettin obscure. You get one more guess, I need to refill my glass”. That’s code by the way, for get another bottle.

“Bar”

“Yes, good idea, I’m on my way; and you’ve already said bar”.

“Belt”

“Noooooo. Bunny rabbit, it was bunny rabbit”. I win. I see her head spinning as she looks for a bunny rabbit.

“Well it’s not there now is it. Not now. It was over there, when we started the game”. And that seemed a looong time ago. That same rabbit has now grown up, reared its own bunnies, and probably had its memoirs published.

“Mum...mummy, there’s a bunny rabbit here”. Emily runs off and I gain an unforeseen benefit. Silence. Game over and let the wine flow, as I think of my two favourite B-words....Bold and bamboo.

Don’t let the bastards grind ya down.

#sayitinbold  @BoldorNaked  
boldornaked.com

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