Rock n’ Roll and the Dances of the Clouds

Right now the sun is shining brightly over Sydney’s inner west. Half an hour ago it was raining.

It’s sure to again; partly because I’ve just put the washing outside for the second time, and partly because tonight is football practice.

The clouds are mocking me and, after a few consecutive days of these laundry shenanigans, it’s starting to get bloody annoying. Perhaps I should burn my Al Gore book and shove a load in the dryer.

Perhaps I should save defeat for the winter.

Austin is not a cloud but he too has a new annoying habit. As his mobility improves and he gets ever closer to those first steps he has come to hate being on his back. He can sleep in whatever position he likes, but when it comes to changing nappies this is a real pain in the ass.

The secret is to keep his hips flat and still. Alas, like a ’57 Elvis the boy has got them rockin’ n’ rollin’ and obstructing every step of the process. Depending on where you’re up to this can be pretty hard on most of the senses. On a bad day this includes touch.

Come time to put on the fresh nappy things are far more pleasant but the frustration is even greater. Nappies are not designed to be fitted to a infant when they're on all fours. Nor when then they Jailhouse Rock.

Can he not think like a Formula One driver at pit stop? Can he not figure out that it’s a win-win?

I guess if he could he’d be walking already. Potty trained too. Like his first penalty save, these will have to wait for another day. And, remarkably, like the weather outside, that is just fine.