Snap Shot #86 – The Last Inch

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The nightly Bed Battle is in full swing. “Just go to bed – now!” “But I want to do something first.” “You can do whatever it is tomorrow.” Disappointed resignation. “All right.” Curiosity. “Tell me what it is so I can remind you.” A glimmer. “I want to measure myself in feet and inches.” This throws me. Not the usual delay tactic. I sigh. What the hell. I slide open the cabinet door guarding our pathetic tool collection. I grab the fluro orange tape measure. “Alright, stand up straight.” Not believing his luck, my son obliges. The yellow tongued tape stretches up his well toned teenage body. I press down on upright hair doing its best to extend the final figure. I pull the tape away and look to where my finger is pinching. 69 inches – 5’9’’. Wow. An impressive height for a fourteen-year-old. But then he’s always been a tall kid. And with his foot size now matching his age, we know that he’ll one day become, if not a giant, then certainly a man most people look up to. But the pressing question is – how close is he to my height? He passed his mother years ago. And in our recent head to head stand offs, I’m told that I still have an edge. But by how much? One way to find out. I hand the tape over and now it’s his turn to measure me. I’m suddenly nervous. I’ve always thought of myself as around 5’10” but it’s been decades since I’ve been measured in feet. Maybe I’ve shrunk. Well, I’m about to find out. My son pulls the tape away. He look at his finger. 70 inches – 5’10”. I am still taller. By one solitary inch. I am both relieved and trepidatious. The day I’ve dreaded is fast approaching – probably only weeks away. I will have to admit that my son has surpassed me. I will be somewhat diminished. And that will then continue as he grows taller and I slowly begin to shrink smaller. But until then – I will relish that last little inch.

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Snap Shot #85 –Shoutin’ Out

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Nitro the Two Toned Cavoodle and I are climbing up a steep hill, heading home from our nightly Bondi Beach walk. From the other side of the road comes a booming female voice. “Right – that’s it. Until you can fix it – I’m out!” Our curiosity captured, Nitro and I turn our heads in time to see a big bodied young woman stride up the road and away from a skulking young man. “You can go to the wedding on your own.” Okay – now it’s getting interesting. Whose wedding? Theirs? Is this an engagement going down in flames on the footpath? Nitro and I are about to enter our building, desperate for more. Our wish is granted. “I’m going to take my mother’s money and go to Mexico.” Boom! I open the door and scramble up the stairs, anxious to share with my wife this delicious tale of a big Bondi Break Up.