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Living with Luke 51

October 22, 2014

So…

This is the first blog after the milestone 50 that I reached last week and to be honest I wasn’t really that sure if I was going to write another one.

But today is a rather special day.

When I started writing these blogs 18 months ago, Tiddles was 14. I was writing about the chunky, cuddly, shouty teenager, whose voice was breaking and for whose boyhood I grieved as he grew bigger.

Today, October 22nd 2014, is Tiddles 16th birthday. Another milestone and another sign of all of our mortality. The little blonde baby has gone, replaced now by the slimline, ever-growing, spotty youth with the voice of a young Hannam. And the hair! His legs are so covered in dark hair it looks like he’s auditioning for the part of a Faun in The Chronicles of Narnia…

But whilst I will be sad as I look at old pictures of my beautiful boy, and whilst I will also be scared of what’s to come in his life, I will also marvel at the little things that he can do.

For instance…TCMH has been unwell this week, so Tiddles keeps going to her and giving her imaginary medicine, feeling her forehead, rubbing her stomach and saying, ‘all better now…’. He’s capable of making himself something to eat, as long as it’s a marmite sandwich and a peeled carrot – which he peels himself.

I could go on, but the birthday boy is awake and for Tiddles, it’s all about the presents. Cards are to be opened and put aside for mummy and daddy to read. Presents are a-waiting! Unless it’s clothes…cos they’re boring.

So, I’ll relate this story which happened last week.

It was TCMH’s birthday and with her money she had ordered an old Bakelite style phone, which she had always wanted. It turned up and I connected it, and duly rung it for her to answer. Then we showed it to Tiddles and I rung it for him to answer. He picked it up and he quoted some lines from ‘Joe 90’ before putting the receiver down again.

TCMH came back into the living room and we sat watching some TV, listening to Tiddles talking on the phone, this time quoting lines from ‘Trumpton’ – he does love his classic childrens TV shows. Then the phone rang, for real this time. TCMH went and answered it and I could hear her saying,

‘Yes, I’m very sorry about that, it’s my son. He’s autistic. No, I do apologise, we’ll certainly try, thank you.’

She came back in.

‘That was the police…Luke dialled 999 when he was talking to Trumpton Fire Station…’ Before she could say anymore, the phone rang again. TCMH answered it.

‘It’s for you,’ she said, ‘it’s Essex Police again…’

‘Hello?’

‘Is that Mr Hannam? We’re just checking everything is alright as we have had a couple of calls from your number which only lasted a few seconds…’

‘Yes, I’m very sorry about that, it was my son whose autistic. He was pretending to talk to…it doesn’t matter. I do apologise…’

Happy Birthday Luke Hannam, with love from your Dad.

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