"Adult Child"

Even at the slimmest, younger and most photogenic phases of my life I have never enjoyed having my photo taken. This probably stems from a professional "smudge" taken at my Bar-Mitzvah. It featured my late Mum in an emerald green evening dress waltzing with me in a midnight blue tux. We looked like two gigantic Christmas tree baubles bumping into each other. Not the most desirable memory of the day the boy became a man.

However, there is one pic that renders memories of a far, far happier event. It is of me (complete with oh so trendy 70s moustache) cradling my newly born son in my hands. You can see how inordinately proud I am and how tiny he is.

This image jumped right back at me last night. It had been a very pleasant time. Adult child and his Mum (my first wife and still a very dear friend) had come over for a post Xmas dinner and gift exchange. As they were leaving I hugged him and couldn't stop myself thinking what happened to all those years between holding that tiny child and saying goodnight to the handsome , honed (and slightly taller than me), intelligent grown man that he has become.

There are some indelible memories that define (that word is for you kid!) my enormous love for him.

Leaving him at boarding school when he wanted to come home, I got in the car and cried my eyes out at my well intentioned efforts of "tuff love". Sorting out a bullying teacher that had been picking on him and other kids. The gut-wrenching pain of not being able to help when he was blamed for something he didn't do and the immeasurable pleasure when he was completely exonerated.

Then there were the "trends". I didn't mind most of them but they always involved the "best" (for "best" substitute most expensive). Skateboards constituted schlepping almost weekly to a specialist shop in the West End to pick up the latest add-on or Stuzzy cap or t-shirt. The remote control cars that cost about the same as my ex-partner payed for a real one, together with repairs that would make a stock car racer weep. The ill-advised ear ring. And a love for trainers that has continued to the present day. It is my belief that without him Nike would still be a cottage industry.

Nevertheless, between his Mum and me we must have done something right. Today he is a man with impeccable taste, exceptional manners and an innate ability to mix with people from all walks of life and give them all a feeling they are sharing something special.

He is also on the verge of what I'm sure will be great success in business. This is very important because the cars he really wants now don't come in kit form and with the current economic climate someone has got to keep Nike going.

It doesn't take much to gather that I'm a doting father. Two wonderful kids with very different talents and abilities. The biggest difference is while "the teenager" is still young enough to be "Daddy's Girl" my son is old enough to not only be my child but also one of my very best friends.