My son has turned five and the temptation is to say that this seems ludicrous; my little boy, all grown up, a man of the world already, that kind of thing. In truth, I don’t really feel that way at all. I’ve been keeping pretty meticulous records of my calendar and the numbers appear to check out, plus he is 4ft tall and closing out his first year of primary school so, yes, five does seem about right. I don’t, however, say this out loud when fellow parents at his small birthday gathering ask where the time went. I just say, ‘Wow, yeah, can you believe it?’ even though I can believe it perfectly well.
There’s a mote of shame in this, as if the best thing I can say about my son is that I feel like I’ve only known him for a wet weekend. Maybe, I counsel myself, the passage of time has simply been complicated by Covid lockdowns, which took up a decent chunk of his toddler years, indeed stretched them to near-purgatorial lengths. This theory hits a snag when I consider that this has been true for every parent I know, and they all seem utterly perplexed at the speed of the Earth’s orbit. I picture them now, leaving with their party bags, wordless and disconsolate. Returning indoors to crunch numbers on battered calculators, and scream at the hundred calendars they’ve connected with red twine across their kitchen wall.
Or maybe I’m being too literal, and it’s just something you say, and especially about nice things. Time flies when you’re having fun, and all that. Well, my son turning five has been extremely fun. His party was small, because he tends to become overwhelmed with big groups. ‘Overwhelmed’ here is a euphemism for ‘extremely unreasonable’.
We had a handful of family and friends there, who well and truly spoiled him with presents. His favourite was the globe he got from his nana and grandad. It lights up and plays videos about any place you press with a stylus, and different settings tell you about that country’s culture, animals, flags or landmarks. You can even press a specific point of the oceans and it will tell you what marine life lives there.
I watch as he prods it and repeats facts about the migratory patterns of the basking shark, or the megafauna of Madagascar. Soon, I am dispatched to the globe’s ancillary website to download an add-on which does the same but for all the dinosaurs that have been found on any corner of the globe you care to point to.
He is generous to friends and cousins when they ask for a go, and even shows his baby sister the screen any time a seal pops up, that being the genus of her favourite toy. It is thrilling to watch him, aswim with wonder, laughing at everything the planet has to offer. And, yes, I marvel at my sweet, funny, kind son, and allow myself, just once, to ponder how grown up he’s become. My little boy, a man of the world already.
Did Ye Hear Mammy Died? by Séamas O’Reilly is out now (Little, Brown, £16.99). Buy a copy from guardianbookshop at £14.78
Follow Séamas on Twitter @shockproofbeats
