Cricket in October

My partner is English and so over the years has insidiously introduced cricket into our family life. A great achievement since I carped, complained and was generally superior, snidle and determindly Scottish about the whole bizarre business for at least ten of those years.

Youngest here is a dreadful sport. When he was very young and he managed to hit a ball and we all yelled 'RUN!' he would clutch the bat and at a sedate pace say 'I no run. I walk' to the screaming frustration of all. He can nearly manage a whole game now without throwing the bat at someone and crying. Nearly. Today he gave up and refused to field because he was so far behind, only insisting on coming back in when he could have his turn at batting. The only person who could manage him in a game of cricket was a visiting vicar who camped in our garden one summer (long story). He let him off with nothing despite the fact he was only five and had a temper which could achieve nuclear fission. When he was playing with the vicar and he was out then he was out and that was that.

Today we were working off the e-numbers we gained at a rare lunchtime outing where we had ice cream floats with iron bru, marshmallows, squirty cream and flakes.

I know. Yeuchh.

PS Don't ever tell J that I love cricket these days...