May 2011
4 posts
Virgin man
I am making cakes with the four year old. My hands are covered in a gooey mixture when the doorbell rings. No-one else is in the house. The front door is a good distance from the kitchen, so I don’t have time to wash my hands. I dash up the stairs, through the gym, up some more stairs, down the hall, into the reception and tip-toe to the door. I tip-toe because, if it is a religious looking man,...
Where is the love?
I am walking home from school with the four year old. She tells me she wants to lock her big brother in a cupboard. I ask her why and she responds, earnestly, “because I hate him”. I ask her what she would do with him in the cupboard. She says “nothing… I would just never feed him”. I ask her what would happen if she did that and she says “nothing… he would just die”. This is followed by...
1 tag
Racism, or Something
The four year old has long had a fascination with all things Chinese. This mainly manifests itself in the form of racism. She likes to pull her eyes side-ways and say “Harro”! I have tried to discourage this, obviously, but the more I pester her, the more slanty the eyes go, and the more pronounced the “rr” becomes.
Yesterday she joined the judo club at school, and got a judo costume. She...
1 tag
The Play Date
Play dates are dreadful. They are dreadful for me because it means I have another (often difficult) child to look after. And they are dreadful for the children involved. The visiting child would rather be at home, and the child being visited would rather be alone. They are good for the parents though - the parent of the visiting child gets the afternoon off, and the host parent feels that they...
