When you find your life is in pieces

What Kati Did Next

I’m getting good at jigsaws. It started two years ago, when my son was given a very simple one for his birthday. Six pieces, three animals cut in half and my son had it licked within the minute. It took me longer.

We progressed to the next level.

Nine pieces, three animals cut into three. Again it was all over before I had closed the box.

Next time I didn’t hang about. I recalled all the rules I was taught with regard to jigsaws; first corners, then flat pieces and finally colours.

I shouldn’t have bothered. The farmyard scene was constructed within a blink.

I’m not telling you all of this to sing my son’s praises, I do that about everything he does, from baking biscuits (the next Jamie Oliver), to potato prints (the next Damien Hirst)... no I am telling you this because I am singing my own praises.

I have developed a great skill for jigsaws. Admittedly this has come about with the sheer intention of challenging my two year old to a jigsaw-off.

Now before you write in, I am fully aware that this is not healthy and that actually I should be encouraging him to develop his own skills but it was the look in his eye which said to me, “Go on then old girl, see if you can do any better.”

So with that in mind I nipped down to my local charity shop and had a quick scout through the shelves for a relatively easy one to start.

It was a simple countryside scene. A milkmaid tending the cows and a farmer tending the milkmaid. The date on the box said 1973.

I wasn’t surprised. I spent a couple of nights slowly putting the pieces together in the sort of order required for this type of thing and I proudly displayed it to my nonchalant husband the following day.

Spurred on by his lack of enthusiasm the next one was a railway scene reminiscent of Jenny Agutter, lots of steam and a shadowy figure known as “Daddy.”

Within the night it was done. Husband bought one home the next night.

The picture was a box of nails. The Boy finished within 10 minutes, I struggled into the early hours, finally launching it towards the bin around 3am.

I think I’ll stick to singing my boy’s praises in the future.