This one’s for Andra, Calvin and Hobbes.
Wheels. The power they bring.
Today, my sister knocked on the door with a small boy clutching her leg and bawling. “I want to stay with you!” He wailed disconsolately to her.
He was like velcro, or those little burrs that the dog collects on his coat at certain times of the year. Every time my sister made as if to head towards her car and work there was, somehow, a small boy- my nephew, Big Al- plastered onto her immaculate work garb.
I summed up the situation and grabbed a hand. “Come on, Al,” I said brightly: “Come and see what Kit Kat is doing.”
The cat had absolutely no effect whatsoever, today. I had a brief but vivid vision of Al hanging onto my sister’s bumper as she drove off.
I shook the image away and picked Al up, enveloping him in a bear hug and rocking him to and fro, gesticulating to my sister to run away, run away, while she had the chance.
We sat down and rocked for a while. I was nursing a nasty dose of walking-wounded flu: not bad enough to collapse in bed but nasty enough to feel rotten. And I was working on a hunch he felt similar.
He calmed, we rocked. We talked a bit more. Are you feeling a bit rotten, Al? Yes, came a muffled answer through a dishevelled mop of blonde hair. Shall we pamper you today? Yes, he said, he thought we should.
We brought out the big guns: computer games. Al was looking positively cheerful now, as Felix lined up that unlikely character Sonic the very fast hedgehog who, it seems, can run and do somersaults. Who knows a hedgehog who does somersaults? Or runs, for that matter? Seriously?
It was immaterial as Al began to look positively starry-eyed, grouped round the ancient behemoth of a television with the older children, one of the in-kids.
On a whim, I rifled in the porch to find the old three-wheeler scooter, a hand-me-down from the seventies, an ancient squeaky yellow-and-red confection.
I wheeled it quietly to the sitting room door and left it, listing nonchalantly to the left.
It cannot have been two minutes before a small boy hurtled into the room on three wheels. Quick work, Al.
“Hello, Auntie Kate. Shall I ride round the roundabout?” he enquired with the enthusiasm of a young pioneer about to embark on a trip up Everest.
The roundabout, it seemed, was the kitchen table. I was so delighted to see the pioneer in better spirits, I acquiesced in utter relief. He did a few laps and went off to explore.
I went upstairs just minutes later, to find he had managed to haul his scooter to the middle floor. We had a solemn conference at the top of the flight, observing the distance, noting the tendency of wheels to slip down them, and reiterating the fact that small boys can get nasty bangs by riding scooters down stairs.
And then we came down. I carried the scooter, which by now had attained the status of Big Al’s firm friend.
My wheels have forsaken me: the old dented bus has been auctioned, a newer Mercedes seven-seater is winging its way up the A303 as I type. This morning we had to walk down to school. With Al, and his need to catalogue each Interesting Thing on the way down, this could take more time than we had.
But not, it suddenly occurred to me, with a scooter.
The kids got coats, shoes and bags together and we stepped out of the front door. My niece, Al’s sister, had anticipated the first problem long before me.
“Now, Al”‘ she was counselling, “when you get to a road, you STOP!”
Erk, I thought. What had I taken on?
Added to a mental picture of my nephew hurtling down a smooth pavement into the path of oncoming traffic, I observed that he was far from steady on three wheels. He had enormous determination, naturally: but balance takes time. Five minutes into the mission, we had already totalled one pair of trousers.
I thought fast.
“Al,” I urged, “put both feet on the scooter.”
He did. I grabbed his little hands on the handlebars and began to push. Faster we went, And faster. “Wheeeee!” shouted Al in elation, “I’m Sonic the Hedgehog! I’m so fast!”
We got to school in double-quick time. Coming back, though: that was uphill, and it occurred to me as I wheezed my way upward that the word patsy might come into play here.
Still, we made it in time for playgroup even without the big car, thanks to Al’s wheels.
And when we went out to the forest after lunch, he was wedded to them.
And to their wheezing eco-fuel, named Auntie Kate.
Cartoon source here
Kate Shrewsday 
how sweet they are even when sick! Hope you feel better soon, and enjoy your new car 🙂
Thanks Tandy. The car is sitting outside now, waiting for me 🙂
What an aunt! There must be a gem waiting for your Auntie Crown! Hope the flu bug gives up and leaves you alone.
That would be nice, Amy 🙂 If only every Auntie had an Al, I feel sure their job would be just as pleasurable as he makes mine.
Cuddles all round – what a fabulous little man! Lucky you with new wheels, what colour is it – something exotic? Also sorry you’re feeling blech 😦 i think the year is catching you up – too much stress and over worked – look after yourself my friend (nag, nag) 🙂
Mercedes estate, Bandsmoke, it doesn’t guzzle petrol like our battered old van did. And it will be nice not to drive round in something so dented it even makes white van drivers blanche…thanks for those words. Winter is a run-down kinda time, isn’t it?
My boys went through this stage. Poor TB was made to wear protective head gear, knee and shin pads by his doting mother; Spud got away without. He used to ride it to school and I used to ride it back. Great fun!
I bet it was, Tilly 😀 Oh, to have been a fly on a nearby tree during your return journeys….
He was like velcro, or those little burrs that the dog collects on his coat at certain times of the year. Love these words, love Big Al and you are just one special Auntie Kate.
Thanks Rosemary 😀
What a cute story and what a great Aunt you are for being so inventive to get his mind off how bad he felt. Love the Calvin & Hobbes cartoon, I read them every day and it always makes me smile and feel a little bit like being a goofy little kid again.
I didn’t know much about Calvin and Hobbes until Andra mentioned them the other day, Lou: been digging and researching every since. It’s no chore: they do bring out the child in us, don’t they?
Love it! Calvin and Hobbes too- you are too good to us Ms Shrewsday 🙂
😀 Another C&H fan closer to home…glad you enjoyed them, Speccy.
C&H for the win! 😀
(Insert appropriately American response as Ms Shrewsday would come out with something a little too close to something Maria from the Sound Of Music would say…like ‘indubitably!’)
😀 😀
One of the things that has reassured me that things might just be OK is my young son’s love of the C&H anthologies that I have saved from my very late childhood…
Some things are timeless: what goes around comes around. Great that he loves them too: they seem to speak to any ago. Maybe I should show Felix….and Al would love them….
…and I have already gushed about my love of the vernacular.
Comparing Big Al to Calvin is perfect, Kate. It’s always how I’ve pictured him in my mind. I hope you feel better quick!!
Sure I will. Feeling a bit more human after a day crashed out, Andra. The moment I began to write about Big Al your comparison jumped into my mind. 🙂
Big Al could be my eldest . . . exhibited much drama when it suited, did everything with total abandon, throwing all caution to the winds, charging headlong into life. 🙂
You paint perfect word photos of this small whirlwind every time you tell us about one of his visits. I can just see you both on that uphill climb. “Patsy?” Aren’t we all when it comes to adorable little boys?
I concur, Karen 😀 They have us wound neatly round their little fingers.
Excellent! Wheels are the key indeed. Wheel can make everything better.
Although… This scenario reminds me very much of wheeling around young children at Disney World. Yes the strollers help the children move about. And yes the stroller help you contain the children and keep track of them. But, at the end of the day, because the children have been rolling along and not walking, the parents are worn out from pushing and the kids are still full of youthful energy. It is a plot I tell you, a plot!
It all works much better when one of the other children has to push.
Indeed, Michael 😀 Why has someone not invented segue scooters and pushchairs so we don’t have to do the work? Wait. don’t answer that *pictures Al making his way gleefully onto the M25 London Orbital Motorway*
You definitely get the gold star for auntie-ship! I confess that my first reaction to small, whimpery children is to try to run away, :). Calvin & Hobbes is an all-time favorite. I’ve got the “complete collection” of the comic strips, and still enjoy a perusal.
If I had the choice and could run away I’d be jumping in a fast sports car and high tailing it to grown-up land. However: needs must. And things always brighten up when The Material bursts in through the door on a Thursday morning 😀
Well Kate you haven’t lost the touch. What a dear little boy Big Al is!
He is gorgeous, Denise 🙂
Beautiful exhuberant post, Kate.
Especially since you’re feeling under the weather.
Congrats on the new car! That will be FUN.
I adore Calvin and Hobbes ~ I used to include C&H’s comic strips on our Christmas newsletters . . . with Hobbes acting as Calvin’s attorney to petition Santa Claus to overlook certain “bad” behaviors. 😉
My fave: Shall we pamper you today? Yes, he said, he thought we should.
I must look for those Christmas cartoons, Nancy. They sound wonderful 🙂
And the car: it was built for posh people about 14 years ago. It has that louche air of an experienced car-of-the-world. No joke: I’m in love.
You’ve got the magic touch, apparently… One of my favourite comic strips, that – and I now have a firm picture in my mind of one Hobbes Shreswday. 😀 Great photo, btw
Yes, Al in front of his favourite ape at the entrance to the forest. There is an atmosphere of reverence, isn’t there, Ruth?
You have the ’empathy button’ skills, followed by the distraction technique down to a tee!
I remember scooter days 🙂
Never thought of it quite like that, but you’re right, Pseu: empathy first, distraction next. Although distraction is Al’s forte. He drives me there all the time.
🙂 not quite what I meant!
Dear Kate,
A lovely post, taking me back to when I first learned to ride a two-wheel bike on a rutted country road. Tilting and tipping, falling and rising, jerking left and right, I finally got the hang of it. I’m so glad Al had his Patsy!
Peace.
He learnt quite fast, Dee, accompanying patsy or no 🙂 These are the moments of our lives, aren’t they?
Calvin and Hobbes provided wisdom and anti hypocrisy. Strip was a continuing adventure examining the contradictions of life and the foolishness we have in deluding ourselves. Not that the tiger was the delusion. We are.
Sometimes it’s good to have a familiar with which to look at life. Philip Pullman took that idea and created a whole reality around it, but Calvin and Hobbes seem to have learned that the best lessons are learned when one is laughing. We can become so pompous in our adult lives. These two seem to gently and engagingly burst the bubble.
You are a woman of resources, Kate Shrewsday! Your sister, no doubt, much appreciates your creative problem-solving 😀
I’ve read every Calvin & Hobbes book (my dad was a great fan) and the cartoon is perfect
Ah, yes, my veritable Rolls Royce of a red-and-yellow scooter: there are many wheeled toys squirrelled away in corners of my house. We never threw them away the first time, and here they still are….
Calvin and Hobbes books have been Scouts fave for a few Christmasses! My brother introduced me to them. Fan-blurry-tastic they are.
They certainly are 🙂
Sounds like a fun day out! Glad you were able to cheer him up after his mom left. Calvin and Hobbes is my brother Andrew’s favorite comic strip too and when I see the characters it reminds me of him. 🙂
It must tap into something very deep about little boys, Brittany!
Sonic and a Scooter. What more could a lad want? Especially when both are power driven…..
He was in seventh heaven, Nuvofelt.
So busy was I that I almost missed “Big All and the Scooter”. A book is that boy. Indeed it is.
Indeed he is, if only he would give me the time to sit down and write one, Penny 😀
Did I already mention that I really, really like the way you write? It’s gives me this feeling that I really can’t describe..but its a good feeling 🙂
Well, that’s a relief 😀 Enjoyed my visit to your blog!
Too funny 🙂 velcro children are everywhere to be found
They are, Gabrielle, they are 🙂
I feel I must always thank you for writing a Big Al post. I taught years and years of preschool and Kindergarten, and it was the Big Al’s who stole my heart! There is something very special about little boys his age, and I hope his Mum loves these snapshots you’re sharing. A gift! Debra
She does 🙂 Preschool is a very special vocation, Debra…you have my admiration. One day a week is enough for me! A special little boy, though…