I do she don't

This was the story of my little brother's wedding. However before you think that he was left standing all alone at the altar, the title of this blog relates more to my own experience here in the UK over the last couple of days rather than his. I came across with Maxime but without Sandie who needs to rest in France. If one asked the question do you agree that Maxime should be allowed to travel alone with his father in the future, I think my answer would be, “I do”, but Sandie’s answer would be “I don’t”. Let’s consider the evidence on both sides.

My view of things: We managed to leave Biarritz on Thursday, arrive in London, pick up a hire car and drive to the venue. Maxime was fed and watered appropriately and slept well on arrival. On the Friday my little brother managed to get married and Maxime was in bed for 9PM.

Now the case for the prosecution: It is true that I gave Ryanair the wrong boarding passes on Thursday, it is true we almost lost Maxime as he excitedly ran up the runway chasing an Air France Airbus jet, and it is also true that he took great delight in patting the head of the elderly passenger in front of him (his joy at this was only surpassed by his invention of a great game that involved putting a jam filled biscuit in the hair of the aforementioned passenger). Just for the record, we hadn’t even left Biarritz by this stage. It is also true that on arrival in London I managed to forget to pick up the pushchair when collecting our suitcase. In addition to that and after cheating death numerous times on the walk to the Hertz car rental car park, Maxime then proceeded to open his car door four times during a 90 minute journey on the motorway whilst travelling at around 130 KPH. Whilst discussing this with my Dad (oh yes, I was not travelling alone – I had another responsible adult with me), I felt that the first 6.5 hours travelling with my son had gone pretty well. I also concluded that the lost milk bottle was so insignificant it wasn’t even worth mentioning to Sandie.

Day 2: The first part of the day went exceedingly well. After travelling so far I was naturally delighted not to see any of the service after my reading because Maxime just didn’t fancy sitting still (even 750 grams of biscuits weren’t enough to keep him in one place). That said, Maxime was still in fine form and still in one piece. In fact the only time he wanted to go into the church was after the ceremony had finished – for those of you without children this is because it is much easier to climb over the seats when the church is empty. I do however have to admit I felt awful as Maxime cut his forehead open on a radiator during the wedding reception (even if he was not strictly under my supervision at that point in time I hasten to add, m'lud).

By the time the young adventurer got to bed, again around 9PM, I was covered in sweat, tears, blood and chocolate (Maxime spat out a half eaten sweet that managed to tumble down the full length of my white shirt). As we enter the final 24 hours of this little adventure, the main conclusion that I have drawn is that having children should be a conscious choice – you can opt to have no children at all. That plus the fact that I should appreciate more what Sandie does…it’s just a shame she’s going to spend the next 2 months in hospital waiting for the twins to arrive.