A Typical NCT Second Reunion

“Hi Frank.”

“Hi, er...” I knew I should have checked in with the wife before we came out. “Hi, er... so how’s the... landscape business?”

“Horticulture. I’m a horticulturist,” he says in a somewhat strained tone. “Not so good really,” he sighs, “what with all the rain this summer.”

“Er, yes, it has been rather wet this year hasn’t it,” I reply lamely. “Kind of makes you wish you’d gone into business as a duck instead!”

The dad chuckles awkwardly and edges towards the safety of a bowl of Wotsits.

Silence.

“So... they’ve grown haven’t they! This time last year they were hardly walking and now look at them. Is that your George wrestling Timmy for the stuffed badger?”

“Yes... yes it is. George! Sharing!” George looks balefully at his dad before kicking Timmy in the shin and yanking the badger from his despairing grasp. Timmy screams, plonks his bottom on the floor and bursts into tears.

George smiles.

“George!”

George pouts, flops to the floor in a flurry of arms and badger and also bursts into tears.

“He certainly has a good pair of lungs on him,” I say.

The dad smiles a wan smile edged with a faint hint of pride and raises an eyebrow as mum rushes to scoop George up from the floor. “Yes, he does have that going for him,” he replies. “So, how’s your Lucy getting on? Is she the one chewing the head off that plastic chicken?”

“Yes. Lucy, that’s yucky! Take it out of your mouth darling. Teething again I think.”

There’s another awkward pause.

“She’s a sharp one our Lucy,” I brighten up. “Talking in whole sentences and bossing everyone about.” I smile the proud smile of the father of a two-year-old tyrant. “How’s George’s speech coming along?”

“Well,” the dad says shuffling his feet, “’no’ seems to be his favourite word at the moment.”

“Yes, I can hear that,” I reply as I see George being dragged out of the hall by his mother for a short ‘time out’.

More silence.

“Oh, look. I think Karen’s coming out with the cake.”

After a brief pause for the cake to be spat on by twelve toddlers eager to blow out the candles and a tuneless rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ we resume our torturous conversation.

“So, do you think you’ll have any more?”

A look of terror flashes across the dad’s face before he quickly changes the subject. “I think your Lucy may have just bounced off the bouncy castle!” he interjects skilfully. “Oh no, sorry, it’s Sally the other blond girl. It appears that Sally may have landed on her face,” he adds with the chirpiness that comes from knowing you’re not the one cleaning up the mess. “Oh dear, I think that’s going to bruise. Good job they have witnesses!” he adds.

“Er, quite...” is the only thing I can think of in reply. “Oh look, here comes Colin.”

Colin arrives.

Colin is that pure breed of super-dad who is charismatic, helpful, tireless, rich, talented, good with the kids and insanely positive. Some of the other fathers suspect that he may be taking drugs.

“Hi guys” he gushes, “lovely to see you again! Rob, if you need any more work thrown your way just say the word. I’ve acquired a few more acres that’ll need a little TLC.”

Rob! Robert! Bobby! I try to imprint the dad’s name onto my long-term memory.

“And Frank, your Lucy’s quite the charmer, isn’t she?” he beams, “and what a vocabulary for such a little one. She was just telling me all about an interesting conversation you were having with Jane the other day...”

He winks.

My mind races as I slowly start to blush, “I... er...”

“Frank, Frank, don’t panic I’m only yanking your chain... and anyway, any secret of yours is safe with me.” He winks again.

Rob smiles into his beaker of Tizer.

“So, how’s Conner getting along, Colin?” I say in an attempt to deflect the conversation back into his considerable orbit.

“Great. Just great thanks. He’s such an energetic little lad. We’ve just signed him up for jujutsu classes. Tracy thinks it might be too much for him on top of Rugby Tots, swimming lessons, sensory play, Baby Ballet, Kiddie Klub, Junior Fencing and Toddler Tap but I always say the more he tries out at this age the better, eh? Their minds are little sponges. It’s all about experiencing as much of life as possible at their age!” Colin grins and looks over at Conner, who is currently walking gracefully along a balance beam unaided, with his doting mother cheering him on.

“He certainly seems to be... um... advanced for his age,” I observe.

“That he is!” Colin professes. “And I hope you’re encouraging Lucy to live life to its fullest. Opening her eyes to life’s rich pageant!”

“Well... er... She does some stuff with the childminder,” I mumble.

There’s another long, uncomfortable pause, which gives me the chance to check my watch. “My goodness,” I exclaim rather too theatrically, “is that the time? Lucy’s going to be needing her nap soon. We’d better be heading off. You know how it is...” I hurriedly put down my half-finished beaker of Vimto and beckon to Jane. “Lovely to see you again, Bob.”

“Rob.”

“Yes... Rob... Well, see you again next year. And you too Colin.”

“Bye, Frank. Take care.”

“Bye, Colin. Bye, Rob.”

“Bye.”

Five minutes later we’re in the car and heading home.

“That was lovely, wasn’t it dear? We really should get together more often,” says Jane.

“Yes,” I mumble as I try to focus on the road ahead with an over-tired Lucy screaming for England on the back seat. “Lovely... definitely... more often.”

Disclaimer: no names, descriptions or experiences bear any resemblance to anything or anybody I may have come into contact with in real life.