It sounds awful now that I’ve written the words but I can’t be the only one who has done this.
- A beautiful family day at the beach was going swimmingly (sorry, I had to). That was until I turned around and saw my child with his swimming shorts around his ankles standing up weeing in the most public and triumphant manner at the waters edge. Not only did I look away and pretend he wasn’t mine – I may have tutted, pretended to look for his parent and sent my husband down to him for a “splash”.
- I promise they are all not connected to matters of the toilet (or lack thereof) but this second one is too. We had wanted to visit this farm for ages. It’s one of those picture perfect farms that have the smell of nature but the feels of Instagram. We had done the long walk and made our way back up by the horses on our way towards the exit. The best part about the farm is the freedom the kids have to roam around nature. So to exercise that freedom my son dropped to his knees and quietly and confidently did a poo metres away from a family who were posing for a photo. When I dreamt about being a parent I just didn’t imagine that I would be picking my son’s poo off of the ground at a farm.
- We met a lovely man in a queue one day. He was a tourist and couldn’t have been more friendly. He interacted with my son and praised him every time he would show off a dance move or “super power”. My son repaid him by telling him that he had a very big belly. I’ll admit that I couldn’t pretend he wasn’t mind. The jig was up. I think I may have made it worse by apologising and saying “if it’s any consolation he says the very same about me”. Thankfully the man saw the funny side.
- In a busy bus shelter we were crammed closely and in the vicinity of a couple who were having an argument. They were trying to be subtle but it was obvious. Subtle is not my son’s forte. He spoke in his loudest voice asking me why the man and woman were fighting “so bad” and eventually posed the question to them. I was never more delighted for the bus to show up.
- We love to donate our old toys and clothes to charity shops. My son often comes with me and I explain to him that they will go to people who may be poor and need them more than we do. We also happen to shop in charity shops. Imagine the scene. As we potter around the store and I look through the clothes my son asks at least three people if they are poor people.