Gapu blong Tony

Late on Tuesday, I arrived in Cairns, excited to see Kibby and Seffy after a week in Brisbane.  However, Kibby's behaviour spiralled out of control within minutes of me walking in.  
     Why?  
     Tony wasn't with me.  Kibby loves his dad.  On TI, they spent every spare moment together, fishing, cleaning the chainsaw and whippersnipper, rigging fishing gear, fishing and having cups of tea.  

     While we've been in Cairns, Kibby hasn't coped without his dad.
     The day after I got back from Brisbane, I took the kids to KMart to print photos for Kibby's timeline project.  Kibby was in a foul mood before we left home so I was in damage control.  I just wanted to print the bloody photos and get home without killing him.
     "You can't tell me what to do," he said when I told him to get out of the car on arrival at Smithfield Shopping Centre.   "Fuck you."
     "You've got three.  One, two, good."
     At the post office he produced every sale item suitable for anyone under 15, begging me to buy them for him.
     No, no, no.
     "I hate you!"
     He vanished.  I caught him hiding behind a bin, barefoot, a bad haircut (thanks to himself then me then sister, Ashlea) and crouching like Nobody's child.
     "Stay next to me," I said as he disappeared.  
     Stuff you, I thought.  
     Then I remembered he's missing his dad.  Tony's mum calls Kibby 'gapu blong Tony' meaning Tony's sucker-fish.  Isn't that sweet?  I always think of that metaphor and them together when I feel like wringing Kibby's neck.  It conjures up images of the sea, of Tony and Kibby sharing moments fishing and diving, of Tony's connection to the sea and how he has passed on his love of solwata to Kibby.  Awww.  If I didn't get sentimental at times like that, I would wring Kibby's neck.
     When I emerged from KMart, Kibby was lurking behind the carousel, colourful and cheerful, all wrong at the time.  I felt my wile come up and sentimentality drain away.
     "If you take off again, I'll flog you," I said.  
     A passerby frowned as if I was in the wrong!
     After a few more terse warnings and him sneaking up and down the aisles of Coles, I got him in the car. 
     "That was disgusting behaviour," I began to lecture him.  "I was printing photos for your project and you take off.  You are so ungrateful.  I can't believe ..."
     "I wish Kevin Rudd got in," he said over my droning, "so I could have gone to New Zealand with Bubu."
     So do I, I thought.