Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Tables Turning

We've just returned from our summer holiday in the south of France.  For the fifth consecutive year we've been to the same place - a practice that I previously believed, given that big wide world out there, existed as the preserve of the old and the boring. But the house is beautiful, the restaurants and local markets endearingly familiar, the pool is perfect and the kids have everything they need. The house is also large enough for lots of people and so there are a different cast of characters each time. And so we keep going back.

Swinging in Uzes

While we were there Gilby turned six, and, to celebrate, we went to Aqualand (just as we did last year, but don't judge...).  Having traversed all the slides before, I was quite happy to swap the adrenaline rush for a sun-lounger and a book this year. (Who said old and boring?) I could 'plot up' in peace, and be the repository for bags and towels, and the supplier of sunscreen as required.

My sis and Gertie on 'The Wave'. Been there, done that.
At lunch, I mentioned that I might like to go on something before the day was out.  At which Gilby slung a protective arm around my shoulders, conspiratorially whispering that he thought I'd like the 'Surf Rider' and the 'Tornado'. "Yep, you'll love them, Mum. I'll take you on there. Follow me, I'll show you what to do..." He may even have patted my arm.

It was lovely to see him so confident and assured and grown up.

And yet, bittersweet.

I can't help thinking that this is the beginning of the end in a gradual process of role reversal as he begins to lead me rather than the other way round.

Gilby standing tall
So it was a relief when he was dependent on me to steer and paddle and generally get us out of trouble kayaking on the Gard a few days later.

He does need Mummy for a little while longer, after all.

Currently reading: A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

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