11 September 2008
So after my unpredicted summer break from blogging I'm easing myself in gently with this fun little retrospective on those dry-mouthed, speechless, 'ground, SWALLOW ME UP!' moments only a parent can identify with...
1) Top of my bunch is a shopping trip to PC World. Ds is four, and has just started to discover the magic of Roald Dahl. Excitedly, be grabs my hand, drags me away from my inspection of the cheapest flat screens over to a very, very rotund lady in the digital voice recorder section (eerie how this is all still so crystal clear in my mind) and says, 'mummy, mummy, look it's her! It's violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory! And she's turning violet, look! Look!' Ds smothered quickly, fed lollypop, all exit shop. Days before we go out again.
2) This should be top of my list as I feel both guilty and embarrassed about it... but I won't lie and say it is. Ds was three, and like all three year-olds, he pushed me to the limit. And beyond, actually, as he really played up at night time, and I'm a gal who really needs her sleep. Enough excuses: I really lost my temper with him and gave him a smack because he wouldn't go back to bed at 3am. Not in my Ideal Parenting Plan, not something I'm proud of or would repeat. And incidentally, not something that worked. The next day he told everyone: in a worried tone, to his grandma on the phone 'mummy... [pause for lip quivering] smacked me!' Poor ds, plus, my mum told me off. Then our neighbour 'my mummy got really cross and smacked me last night'. Then the postman who we saw on the way to the park, three other mums we met in the park, the lady in the bakery and some random woman posting leaflets through doors. Louder and louder he said it and any attempt to silence him would have been ill-advised.
Again, retreated, defeated, and stayed behind doors till he had more or less forgotten about it. Poor ds.
3) 'You're very pretty', ds says to the frankly, very pretty lady sitting opposite him on the train into London. He's three. They chat for a while and she gives him a sweet, which blows him away. 'You're very nice AND you're very pretty' he says, stepping up the charm. Encouraged by her 'thank you!'s he goes one step further. 'Are you going to have tea at your house tonight or do you want to come to my house for tea. My mummy is cooking my tea and you can come too. You could go with your man there [points to her boyfriend who has been smiling indulgently throughout], only he's got bad teeth and I don't think he can eat any of the sweet things we have at home. But you could come.' London Bridge could not have come soon enough.
OK I've told you mine, now you tell me yours!