Dance the night away

Harry was 18 months old on Monday – and I’ve no idea where the time has gone.

He is growing up so fast, it’s hard to keep up with his development. I’ve got pictures of Harry taken just before Christmas on my office wall and he looks so young and small, nothing like the stocky bundle of energy that greets me every evening when I arrive home from work.

He’s also a real little character, playing up to any attention and, frankly, showing off. It was certainly the case last Saturday when Melissa’s nan had a party to celebrate her birthday at Stansty House in Wrexham.

The country music duo Jeff Cliffson Duo performed for the occasion and Harry loved it, spending most of the performance bobbing up and down right in front of Jeff and John, much to the amusement of the residents.

Occasionally, Harry would take a break from the dancing to drag one or two of us up to bob up and down with him, including Melissa’s nan of course. It was all good fun and Jeff and John were on fine form – even I got out of my seat a couple of times.

Anyway, I’m sure Harry will appreciate me reminding him of this when he’s, oh I don’t know, about 15 years old.

He was also fascinated by John and Jeff’s guitars, and you could tell he was desperate to have a go. I just hope he takes after his mum when it comes to musical talent; heaven help him if he takes after me.

Swimming is definitely more my scene and now Harry’s a bit older, I’ve got a good excuse to act like a big kid again. We went to Waterworld in Wrexham on Sunday and I spent most of the time going down the slide with Harry on my lap.

The slide seemed very fast – certainly faster than when I was little. Harry screamed – I think it was with delight, but I can’t be sure. The worst part, though, was trying to stand up when we reached the bottom of the slide; balancing Harry while pushing myself upright and hanging on to a rubber ring was not easy. But as I’m quickly finding out, it’s hard to look dignified when you’ve got a little one in tow.