Jonny McCambridge: Jigsaws, Lego and wrestling – how to fill the time on those long, wet summer days

It is tempting for me to just allow him to play video games or watch TV from morning to night, but I have that nagging feeling that I would be failing in my responsibilities as a parent.

Because I carelessly neglected to produce any siblings for him to play with, the burden falls on me to amuse him during these long, wet summer days when I am off work.....these long, long wet summer days.

Here are 12 ways I have tried to fill the time.

1. The dawn jigsaw. My son wakes early and doesn't believe in easing himself into the day. He also holds the firm view that if he is awake then there is absolutely no reason why I should not be awake also. Therefore, I'm in my pyjamas and doing a Pokemon jigsaw before the morning birds have found their voice.

I begin at the corners, but struggle to make any meaningful progress. Perhaps it’s because I’m still half asleep or because of my failing eyesight, but all of the pieces same to be the identical shape and garish bright yellow colour. I don't like jigsaws at the best of times. At 6am, even less.

2. The Lego challenge. I've been meaning to mention the sadism of Lego toys for some time. My son has an abundance of sets left over from his birthday awaiting attention. Now, he decides is a good time to build them. Or, more specifically, he decides now is a good time for me to build them. The utter desolation of having to construct something which has 120 pages of dense and difficult to follow instructions. The torture of reaching step 97 only to realise you put a tiny plastic bit on back to front several hours ago on stage 16 and it now all has to be taken apart. I know I might be missing the point Lego manufacturers, but how about selling some toys which come already completed? Just a thought.

3. Role-playing. A daily occurrence but endlessly unpredictable. My son leads me into the larger room and announces he has invented a new game called 'Zombies vs Monkeys'. Inexplicably, it seems to involve him bashing me over the head repeatedly with a foam replica of Thor’s hammer.

4. Indoor football. My son is not much of a sports fan but we do manage to kill half an hour by kicking a rolled up pair of socks around the kitchen. The game is only permitted on the advance understanding that I will allow him to win 20-0. If my wife asks what happened to the good wine glasses, say nothing.

5. Surfing the web. It is impossible to get through a day without some Youtube-based activity. Following some random searching, we watch an old wrestling match between Giant Haystacks and Big Daddy and a Japanese B movie that my son wanted to see because it has a battle between Godzilla and King Kong. Worth checking out just for the scene where they transfer King Kong to the battle scene by tying balloons to his arms.

6. Wrestling on the bed. Recreating the bout between Big Daddy and Giant Haystacks (see five). I am Haystacks and the battle concludes when I am roughly thrown from the bed. I then have to pretend to return to my dressing room while pointing my finger angrily and hurling abuse at my conqueror. While the authenticity factor is not high, the enthusiasm cannot be faulted.

7. Afternoon jigsaw. We return to the uncompleted task from the morning. There is part of me which thinks I may enjoy it more the second time around because I'm wide awake and more alert. I don't.

8. Drawing. My son seems to have an aptitude for art but progress is slow because he grows bored quickly. He goes back to watching TV while I finish the series of 12 monster drawings that he has planned.

He then comes up with the idea for a full graphic novel but is happy to leave the graft to me while he relaxes on the sofa. I feel cheated when he later passes the work off to his grandparents as his own and receives warm plaudits.

9. Downloading a game. My son can already do this more efficiently than me. My sole job here is to insert the password which gives parental approval on the iPad. My son is less than impressed when I admit I've forgotten the password. (‘You have one job daddy! Just one job!’) I've never felt less valued.

10. Going to the cinema. This is an activity that I believe I will actually enjoy as I think there is something delightfully mischievous about disappearing into the picture house during daylight hours and settling down with a box of popcorn as big as a wheelie bin.

Within minutes I’m soundly asleep (I was awake early, you see). My son roughly shakes me. The pattern is repeated several times as I doze off only for him to elbow me back to consciousness. I can’t help but sense a sinister edge to his voice when he whispers harshly ‘You’d better stay awake daddy, I’ll be asking questions about it afterwards.’

11. Reading a story. My limitations as a public orator are cruelly exposed. While the narration is fine, my son insists that I adopt a different and distinct voice when reading dialogue from every single character.

I try my best but get pulled up often. ‘Daddy, your voice for Draco Malfoy is exactly the same as yours for Sirius Black. Also, Dobby does not come from Ballymena.’

12. Advancing his education. The school has sent home revision work to be completed over the summer. I suggest that perhaps we should get the books out. It does not end well.