The midget is in a new role – astronaut. He still fights darleks and cybermen, but now on behalf of mission control rather than as the Doctor.
From his seat in the shuttle he has constructed an elaborate array of props – a till becomes his computer, an egg box the keyboard and missile launcher buttons, a tube is a gun, a tape recorder with mic becomes his radio communicator, and a picture is a video screen to talk to mission control. He has his doctor’s bag in case anyone becomes ill and a pile of scratched CDs to reboot his mainframe in case there is a lockdown.
This play goes on for hours, sometimes the play carries on over to the next few days. Sometimes I am his passenger and sometimes we fight darleks together.
Most of the time I sit keeping him company soaking up his littleness, in awe of an imagination I never had as a child, amazed by his inventiveness and in total love for this little soul who I’m allowed to scrunch into huge big cuddles and kisses all over for as long as I want and be hugged right back. Masha’allah.
I wouldn’t miss this show for anything.