An Indoors Boy

Most people would put the sign on the OUTSIDE

When we was very tiny, we took the boy on holiday down to Dorset. We had so much stuff in the car that it compares unfavourably to what we have now with 5 of us but perhaps the best thing we bought was the babysling because he loved being in it. I’ll never forget climbing up towards Golden Cap in light drizzle, me with my waterproof on, him in the sling on the front of me in his little blue and white stripped waterproof coat, the wind in his face and a smile on his chops. He was a proper little outdoors baby.

Fast forward around 7 years and things are different now. The boy enjoys himself when we are out and about. Mostly. Mostly when he forgets to have the hump with being out and about, if I’m completely honest with you. He loves being in doors, more specifically in doors at home. It’s not that he’s lazy or unfit; he isn’t, he has levels of stamina and endurance that could put an adult to shame when he actually wants to do something but the concept of going out and doing stuff doesn’t generally appeal to him.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to drag him (physically, not metaphorically) out of the house to go somewhere, be it swimming lessons, a trip to the shops, or even in extreme circumstances, away on holiday. The thing is, after a bit of sulking, he almost always has a fun time when we’re out….