Life is but a dream

Lily slept through the boat race today. I notice that Cambridge will be looking for a new cox next year and something occurred to me.

I mean. I’m not a pushy parent, but let’s just go through the essentials here.

Coxes (or should that be coces?) come in small packages – yes.

To be a cox, you can be male or female – fine so far.

The lung capacity of a cox is surprising – indeed.

A key component of coxing is enjoying water – absolutely.

Coxcraft is all about manipulating people twice your size or more to do things that make their backs ache in order to achieve a big splash – this is Lily’s speciality. Great!

The Cambridge cox has to be a student at Cambridge University – …  Ah. Yes. Right. Maybe we should be working on that one. Also there is the matter of gaining 45 kg or so over the coming few years.

Oh well. I will have to settle for Lily regularly imploring me to row, row and row: with actions, should I fail to understand her meaning. She has learnt how to say a few useful words in the past weeks. In no particular order, these are:

Mama

Dada

Home

Sees ( = cheese, feet, keys)

Rowrowrowrowrow

Ten-ten-ten-ten

Car

All other communication is a combination of simple signs, fervent looking, back arching or whining. I prefer spoken language mostly, so am working on improving this. I also feel it would benefit her when applying to Cambridge to read her Tripos Part I in Coxing.

This is assuming (among many, many other things) that Cambridge is her choice of university. Her father and grandfather graduated from there, which may be enough to make her think differently. And was I the only person to notice that the Cambridge rowing coach has a pirate patch?

Scary.

So don’t sleep through the boat race, smorgeous!