Observing Christian seated at our customary table at 3fe on Sussex Terrace, something about his demeanour signals to me that all is not well. When you’ve shared numerous challenges, there’s an undeniable bond. It’s just a part of rugby and indeed, life itself.
Upon my arrival, I greet him, “How are you faring, old chap?”
“All fine, Ross,” he replies. I opt to allow him to communicate his concerns at his own pace. “And you?”
Feeling chipper, I retort, “I’m in rather splendid spirits, to be truthful.”
Then, however, our conversation experiences a lull.
He shares in exasperation, “My offspring instructed me to leave him alone.”
This makes me chortle, causing me to nearly spray his face with my flat white.
I question, “Which son could you possibly be referring to? Surely, Oliver?”
“No, Ross Jr,” he clarifies. To clarify, my godson.
Taken aback, I query, “Ross Jr? It’s unlike him to exhibit such behaviour.”
“It’s no laughing matter,” he reprimands me.
“I deduced from your surly expression that you were still peeved about the loss to Toulouse. But, lad, it’s a significant milestone in a child’s life to assert himself against his parent.”
“Really?” he asks me in surprise.
“Indeed, I gave my father a taste of it quite early on. I was a mere eight when I told him off. He thought I could improve my kicking form. Believer or not, I was only five when I said it to my mother.”
“You were only five?” he exclaims in disbelief.
“Yes, you are aware she had me preparing her cocktails from a tender age? She wasn’t pleased when I used Smirnoff instead of her preferred Grey Goose in her Bloody Mary.”
“Are you implying I shouldn’t be flustered?”
“You’ve hit the nail on the head. It’s like a rite of passage,” I reassure him.
“I thought I might have overreacted,” he confesses.
“In my humble opinion, it sounds as though Ross Jr is finally coming into his own.”
“I warned him that I would not take him to the imminent Taylor Swift gig.”
He’s taken aback as he asks, “Beg pardon?”
“He’s a fervent fan and we have the tickets to see her perform. Do you advocate that I should still attend with him?”
“If he is particularly insistent, I suppose there would be no harm in it,” I conclude.
Can you recall the moment not too long ago when I suggested you disregard the offensive comments made by young Ross? How might you react if I now proposed the complete reversal of my previous advice? – Ross
Just when this question arises, my mobile starts to ring. It’s Honor. She has the rather unpleasant task of clearing after dogs in Cabinteely Park, as part of her community service.
My response is, “What’s going on, Honor?”
She responds, “Just calling to check you haven’t forgotten about tomorrow?”
Perplexed, I ask, “Tomorrow? What are you referring to?” as I have no clue what she’s implying.
She retorts, “You know, Taylor Swift?”
Suddenly, it clicks – “Ah, I see, that.”
“You managed to get tickets, didn’t you?”
“Absolutely, I’ve got them.”
In truth, I don’t.
She continues, “I told you it would be part of my birthday gift, remember?”
I play dumb – “Were you not being sardonic about that?”
“Did I seem like I was?”
I admit, “I’m finding it increasingly hard to tell.”
“I’ve been a Taylor Swift fan for a while now, before she was mainstream.”
“Well.”
“So, you do have the tickets, right?”
Not wishing to disappoint her, I assure her, “Of course! How could you ever doubt me?”
Unimpressed, she hangs up.
Christian asks after her, “How’s Honor?”
I reply cheekily, “Ah, she’s busy with ‘bomb disposal’ if you catch my drift, in Cabinteely Park.”
“Ew.”
“Truly, mate, she’s on, you know, community service.”
After a moment of silence, I ask, “Remember that chat we had a short while ago about young Ross’ inappropriate language? What if I suggested that you now pay heed to it?”
“But you insisted it wasn’t a big deal. You confessed to your mother at five years old.”
“And it didn’t do me any harm, right? I was one of the fortunate ones. But, sadly, we can’t say the same about Honor, can we? Believe it or not, she started swearing when she was only eighteen months old.”
“Eighteen months?”
Her first words related to the term ‘focaccia’, as Sorcha once stated. She’s always managed to find the silver lining in any situation. Ross jnr sometimes needed a firmer hand, I suggested.
Recalling my conversation with one chap, I had said, “Dear friend, it’s as if Honor is enduring a never-ending Easter egg hunt today.” His retort was that he hoped his son would not emulate my daughter, rather cheeky of him, I thought.
Maintaining my equanimity, I responded, “No offence taken, mate. I am simply stating that one faces enormous challenges while bringing up children.” Clearly riled, he quoted my earlier comment regarding the minimalistic parental effort involved beyond basic sustenance, to which I pleaded, “Could we drop my previous statements? Perhaps I was dabbling in – what’s the term – playing devil’s advocate?”
He sought directions to treat defiance to parents as a milestone, to which I intimated, “Only future will reveal if it is a milestone or a dangerous tread.” He registered his disapproval of his son following in Honor’s footsteps or even those of my other offspring.
I implored him to refrain from disparaging my children. Ross then asked my opinion about his son’s likelihood of attending a Taylor Swift concert. I suggested it may be advantageous in the future to intervene as Honor’s criminal record serves as a lesson. The magnitude of this could be colossal if we were not residing in Killiney.
Realising his dilemma, I assured him of my genuine concern as a godfather to his son, and suggested a mild surprise could set him right.
As we sipped our coffee, I punctuated the silence after a minute or so, offering to purchase his tickets as a favour considering our best friendship. Surprised, he asked if I would pay the original price for the second-hand tickets. I firmly declined, unwilling to pay cover price for such items.
“They’re being bought and sold over the internet for around five Ks, you know.”
“Ah, so intend to squeeze profit from your son’s misbehaviours, is that it?”
“I guess you might be onto something.”
Then I propose, “How about I offer you three-fourths of the purchase price? Is that agreeable?”
He responds, “Sounds good. Also, I appreciate the conversation, Ross.”
I answer, “Mate, it’s what pals are at your service for.”