June 2011
7 posts
The Trip
A while back, I spent the weekend on holiday with the family I work for. We went to Veysonnaz, which is a Swiss ski resort. I had never before been skiing so approached the trip with shaky intrepidity.
The early start means I am grumpy. The four year old sits on her Trunkie and I drag it through the various airport check-points. She has a remarkably regal poise for one so young; her back is...
Splash
While the mansion is being nursed back to its former glory, the family are staying in temporary accommodation. It is a castle. The four year old and I have, unimaginably, found a game that we both enjoy playing within the grounds. We stand at one end of the garden, both clutching a rugby ball. We then take turns to kick our balls toward the other end of the garden, with the goal of getting it...
Wash-out
It is 10pm and I’m lying on a chaise lounge in the mansion, playing Shrek Go-Kart on the iPad. My face and hands are illuminated by the device’s glow, which is the only source of light in the room. The four year old and thirteen year old are in bed and it is blissfully quiet. I can hear naught but the intermittent spray of the automated air-freshener system. I feel like I am sharing the...
The Museum
I take the four year old to the Science Museum. She spends most of her time conjuring up questions about the exhibits that I cannot answer. She then waits until we are surrounded by people and asks these questions in her most audible voice. If only she would share her possessions as willingly as she does my humiliation. We walk around looking at space shuttles, rockets, bits of bombs, cars,...
The Fire
The mother of the four year old doesn’t work. She never really has, from what I can gather. I wondered at what point she got bored of her youngest daughter. I discover that she decided to hire a nanny when the four year old turned two. In the attic, a cavernous room that sits atop their mansion, lives a dusty treadmill. I once asked the mum how long she had the treadmill before it was banished...
Rough Justice
The four year old has a police uniform, complete with gun, truncheon, and cuffs. Today we invented a game incorporating the outfit. The game goes like this: I hide one of her soft animals, she hunts it, arrests it, brings it to our makeshift court, sentences it and chucks it in our makeshift jail. I am her police helper. I want to be her colleague, her equal, but I don’t have a police badge, so...
Kid's Parties
I have attended five of these in the last four weeks. I chaperoned the four year old to one a few days ago, that stood out as being the worst thus far.
I arrive at the party with the four year old. She has been happily holding my hand on the walk to the venue, but announces to the room, upon her arrival, that she wants me to “get off”. She speeds off into the main hall which resembles a dodgem...
