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.