Proud as Punch.

With Friday being our first date night since arriving in Melbourne, not even a projectile vomiting son could waiver our steely determination to indulge in Shalome's offer to babysit. After cleaning what was left of his lunch off her kitchen floor, The Lovely Samantha bid the boy wonder farewell and trotted home to meet me for a slap up meal and a bottle of plonk.

Saturday was our first father-son soccer training camp session...for three year olds. I wasn't expecting much and yet, despite his continual requests for a pink ball, Bodhi was a natural. He scored with his first journey to the penalty spot and celebrated for the rest of the session doing snow angels all over the pitch. Big, proud smiles.

Sam had a girls night out that night so Bodhi and I cut loose with Dora The Explorer card games till bed time. Heady stuff.

Waking Sunday morning to the hangover in bed beside me, I decided to take Bodhi for a cultural scooter trip to the National Gallery of Victoria (we're new members). He lasted all of five minutes in the photography exhibition, but put in a solid thirty minutes of measured scrutiny and considered appreciation at the hot chocolate and cookie display in the member's lounge. Following that we sat down in the kids corner where children can do some drawings and pin them on the wall. However, after putting the finishing touches to his crayola masterpiece, to my absolute astonishment, Bodhi signed his artwork...with his name...by himself. F*&k the curator I thought, that's going straight to the pool room.

Rounded out the evening with a bbq dinner for my cousin who was in town with his girlfriend.

See ya,
Minas.

Hiya;

An area of Melbourne called Waterfront City (Docklands) puts on Friday night fireworks, evening yum cha and 80s disco themed ice skating, so where do you reckon we parked ourselves? Bodhi was far from natural but loved every minute of it.

I've found my new favourite breakfast haunt. Dukes on Chapel is almost everything I've ever wanted in a brunchery - moorish food, view into the cooking area (to learn the dark art of a perfect poached egg) and the clincher - great tea (a rarity in a coffee crazed culture). The only thing lacking is atmosphere.

Saturday night we took Bodhi to The Circus Oz big top. Given his testing behaviour over the past fortnight, there was some hypothesising about the possibility of him running away with them. I did enquire, but he didn't meet height restrictions. Maybe next year.

On Sunday, greeted with such beautiful sunshine, we did a very un-Melbourne thing. We picnic'd in "The Tan" (Botanical gardens). It wasn't so much the picnic that ruffled feathers though, moreso the fact that we were wearing pastels instead of the near ubiquitous outfit of all black. Which does beg the question: are Melbournians closet Kiwis?

That afternoon with the sun still shining, we decided the best way to go home was via the pub. Shalome recommended the Bluestone belgian cafe on St Kilda rd which is basically our local. The selection of beers on tap are brilliant and the honkey tonk band were even better. I spent the rest of the arvo with one eye on the band and, with Wayne Carey sitting just nearby, the other eye on the missus.

Another great weekend in the land of the long white tram.

see ya,
Minas.