Play Dates

Poor Boy #2. For nearly four years now he's been the side-show to the main event - his brother - being pulled from pillar to post, from playdate to party, from school to after-school activity. He's been good-natured about it, sure, but heck, when a guy is nearly 4 years old he needs some space and time of his own, know what I mean?

So he's started, in his own winning way, to make his feelings on this matter felt. No longer is he content to sit back and play the adoring little brother whilst Boy #1 calls the shots. Now Boy #2 wants to have his own playdates, his own activities, his own visits to other peoples houses with - and this is the most important thing - other people's toys.

I have to admit that organising this has not been top of my list of priorites. But today, when he asked me again to organise a play date with a boy at his school who he's been mentioning for the last 3 weeks now, I decided that it was time to do something about it. And as luck would have it, there was a party this afternoon that this little boy would be attending.

Now I'm not quite such a bad mother as I've made myself out to be here. At the end of last week I gave Boy #2's nursery teacher a note for little X's parents, asking if it would be possible to set something up. Admittedly, not knowing the surname of this boy (the curse of 'subsequent' siblings is that their mother never has time to hang around the school gate learning names and mobile phone numbers in the same way she did for their older brother or sister, I find), I had been forced to address the note to "Dear X's parents...." and also, not knowing X's schedule and desperate on my son's behalf to set something up, had been forced to list Boy #2's activities out in almost obsessive-compulsive detail (who, me?). In spite of this, I thought I struck just the right warm, fuzzy, slightly manic tone... (Oh dear). Of course I heard nothing back.

So at the party today I reminded myself of Boy #2's wish and kept an eye out for the little boy in question. Once he arrived, I approached anyone who looked remotely as if they might be his parent, and finally struck gold when I was pointed in the direction of a young-ish dark haired woman. (X is blonde. Perhaps that should have been my first clue that she and X are not blood-relatives.)

I approached her and spent 5 minutes chatting away about how Boy #2 was always mentioning X, how much he liked him, and how he really wanted to ask him over for a playdate. I mentioned the note I had previously written, to check that the nursery teacher had passed it on. I suggested a couple of days that a playdate could work, and threw in a passing reference to our proximity to a garden square with a playground in it to bait the hook. As a further sweetner I said that she was welcome to come too, or if she wanted to 'dump and run' and come back in an hour or so, that would be fine. I mentioned Boy #2's older brother, and even commented on the lovely weather we've been having.

Finally, I drew breath. She responded.

"I... sorry. I - nanny. I not speak... much... English?"

Curses.

Foiled again...