Today is day 3 of the great study clear up.

Yes, day 3.

I’m slightly concerned about how long the rest of the house is going to take given I’m only half way round the room. My other half assures me that nothing in the rest of the house will take as long as this, and I’m not sure what he is suggesting.

Yesterday I found a little photo album of me on my school exchange to Munich. I was pleased to have found it as my son has been saying how much he would like to go to Munich and hadn’t seemed to believe me that I had been there.

Recently I’ve noticed that my once confident and out-going child has become more reticent, preferring to hide in the background. I was a little concerned as I felt he was pulling himself out of opportunities he would have once jumped at. A fortnight in a new school seems to have had a bit of an impact on that.

Opening the photo album made me realise that I recognise the reluctant child.

I remember Munich as being an amazing experience. As part of a school exchange it was my first time abroad, and also without my family. Although there were organised activities, most days we had to get to the Marienplatz to meet our teachers under our own steam. This involved negotiating an entirely different transport system. At night we went to discos. The family I stayed with took me to see “Kusse mich Katzchen” (umlauts missing i’m afraid – I know the translation, do you?), because my exchange partner’s father was the head costume maker.

The album is mainly of the family and me on a couple of days out, and I knew it would interest my son as it showed the places he wants to go. Now before you get excited and think of all the historic places you could go in Munich, I need you to think 12 year old boy.

Our days out took us to the Olympic Park and up the tower with its view over Munich, and perhaps most importantly the BMW factory. They show people eating pretzels, and some trying of some beer.

In the pictures though I saw my child. The same shyness and reluctance.

Of course I also recognise the nearly three decades of events that have helped me forget that sulky teenager.