I'm becoming more like Archie

The other night I was watching that new BBC2 sitcom Rev when I happened to see a familiar face among the cast.
The guy playing the choirmaster no longer had his trademark glasses and his lolloping hair had been replaced by a more shaven look but it was most definitely him.
It was Archie from Balamory.
Alas, this fact was totally lost on the people with whom I was watching the show and they smiled patronisingly at my over-excited observation. Then they told me to sit down.
Anyway, I didn't think it was even a strong enough subject for a whole blog until I realised later that actually the predicament of actor Miles Jupp, who plays Archie and this choirmaster chap, is not altogether different from mine.
I am now in my last of four weeks working in London, far away from the children, wife and home in West Cornwall and I think I might be beginning to enjoy it too much.
This is certainly the longest stint I have ever had away from being a father. After being a stay at home dad for three and a half years, I never dreamed I would escape from ever being thought of, first and foremost, as a dad. Rather like, I would imagine, an actor such as Miles Jupp might feel about life after being a main character in one of the most popular children's shows ever. Regardless of any repeat fees of course.
My situation has been helped by the discovery of the flights that run from Newquay to London Gatwick on a Monday morning, early enough for me to get into the office in time. It gives me a valuable extra whole afternoon and evening at home on a Sunday, rather like getting a train. I also feel quietly empowered by the fact I am 'jetting in' like some executive type.
Then last night I went to a work-related soiree, although if the wife asks it was more of a meeting. In the taxi en route to the West End venue, I gazed out at the tall buildings and bustle of the streets like some kind of country mouse or Mick 'Crocodile' Dundee seeing New York for the first time. Bear in mind I hadn't been to Oxford Circus for about a year.
The ‘do’ was on a fifth floor terrace overlooking the south and west parts of the city. It wasn't in the same league as your average view in Cornwall but it was beautiful in a grimy kind of way and somehow captured the excitement I was feeling.
As I chatted to people I hadn't seen in some time, I began to repeat the phrase of how I was 'living the dream' down in the West country but now I’d been working in the city for a few weeks I was beginning to realise how much I had missed my old life.
The opportunity to go back to it full time has, for now, passed me by and the more wine I drank, the more I felt what a shame this was. But sobering up on the tube home, I also thought I am hopefully going to be able to go back to it now and again.
In a sense I'll be getting the best of both worlds. 
Back home it was getting late and I listened to my voicemail. My wife had phoned at about seven that evening and got the kids on the phone to leave a message.
My boy Jem, three, was saying: ‘'Hello Daddy. I love you Daddy. Daddy? Daddy? SPEAK TO ME DADDY!'
Daughter Carys, five, had cottoned on: 'He's not there Jem, leave a message.'’
Of course I could have broken down in tears and thought 'I want to be back with them now… I want to go home…' but I didn't. I was restrained (actually, I fell asleep from all that wine...)
But as I listened to the message again this morning, I remembered Miles Jupp and his life after children's television.
And here's the rub: he may be able to escape Balamory but he will always be known as Archie.
Similarly I may be able to escape being a father but, to the two of the most important people in my world, I will always be Daddy.
Except, of course, that's got to be more valuable than any number of repeat fees.