Young children do have a tendency to be embarrassing - if it's not full blown tantrums in the middle of John Lewis' kitchenware department, then it's the pointing and asking, at full volume, "why is that person SO fat?". Perhaps they're just trying to get their share in early before the teenage years when of course they will mortified on a daily basis by our very existence.
My kids racked up a few more points in the embarrassment stakes this weekend. Having travelled to see friends near Ilkley we were wondering how we would spend the Sunday morning. Our hosts suggested a walk - a perfect idea given they live in the midst of spectacular countryside, but already I was feeling nervous.
"A walk! I don't want to go on a walk. Walks are boring." This from my 4-year-old son who spends every waking moment hurling around like a firework inadvertently let off indoors. However, he has a mental block when it comes to the idea of an actual 'walk' with such annoying details as 'direction' and 'purpose'.
"Well," I said, trying to save face with our friends, whose children were already happily getting ready for the excursion, "it's not really a walk - it's an adventure!"
Oscar looked at me with a face that said "Amateur! Did you really think I would fall for that one?" and continued to flop on the sofa in the manner of recently shot game.
So, I did the only thing I could think of to rescue the situation. I compiled a nature walk booklet.
Yes, OK, this does sound over the top, but I have a reputation to uphold here. I mean, my kids are supposed to like this whole outdoors thing Goddammit, and no-one was going to say otherwise.
So, I gave each of the four older children identical folded pieces of paper, with a list on one side to tick off when they saw things, and a second list of items to collect. This was a little tricky as I hadn't been on the walk before but my friend Jane gave me some ideas.
Within half an hour Oscar was bounding along with a huge grin on his face and actually uttered the words "this is the best nature walk ever!"
The fickle little....
You just wait until he's 14. Revenge will be mine.
Damn you're good.
I was crossing the road with my 4yo son the other day as a man approached on a really quite natty wheelchair/bike combo. i grinned expectantly at said son, as he is usually hugely impressed with anything technical and wheel-based, but in the seconds in which the man was in ear shot he pronounced, in his loudest voice: 'That is a really stupid bike'. Good to be reminded that my time will come.
Posted by: Lia Leendertz | May 26, 2010 at 02:41 PM
Lia - First day at secondary school I'm planning on yelling "remember Mummy loves you" at the top of my voice... and every day thereafter until we are even. May I suggest you follow the same course of action...
Posted by: Dawn/LittleGreenFingers | May 26, 2010 at 03:00 PM
Don't they have Eye Spy books any more? They did a series of 10 things to spot when out on coast walks, country walks, etc. We used to love them - although that was in days of yore..
Posted by: Arabella Sock | May 26, 2010 at 05:59 PM
Ah brilliant, this post made me chuckle, oh how we have all been here before x
Posted by: Cornish mummy | May 26, 2010 at 06:20 PM
Do you know the book 'Harry Hates Shopping' - where a mum solves the problem of her quarrelsome offspring by waving newly bought bloomers round her head and singing loudly in the department store? Suddenly, the children find their way to try on and accept the shoes they set out to buy. One little movement towards the dreadful knickers and . . . instant compliance. You could put some in your handbag.
Esther
Posted by: Esther Montgomery | May 26, 2010 at 07:49 PM
Inspired response. You deserve your success. He just didn't know what he had taken on. Amateur indeed. For getting your own back, I found that with sons any time after the age of about six going in for the hug and kiss at the school gate was a sure fire winner.
Now my son is 28 he tries to get his own back with a bear hug and a declaration of "Little Mummy!" He might be a foot taller now but he still knows who's boss, admit it or no.
Posted by: elizabethm | May 26, 2010 at 10:54 PM
I have been the same. The exact same. I am dreading the years ahead...
Posted by: Metropolitan Mum | May 28, 2010 at 09:56 PM
Arabella - thanks to you, and Wikipedia, I now know all about the I-Spy books. I particularly like the idea that you could send in your completed books to Big Chief I-Spy in return for a feather and order of merit and that the fourth Big Chief I-Spy was David Bellamy. Apparently the books were relaunched by Michelin last year. I am off to investigate further...
Posted by: Dawn/LittleGreenFingers | May 30, 2010 at 12:24 PM
Cornish Mummy - Come on then - I need your profound wisdom on how to counter this behaviour (I already have I-Spy books and bloomers on my list)
Posted by: Dawn/LittleGreenFingers | May 30, 2010 at 12:26 PM
Esther - I am now adding this book to the I-Spy series as essential ammunition in the fight against embarrassing kids. Unfortunately, my underwear is going to need a revamp to allow for true waving potential.
Elizabeth - the thing is, a hug is never going to embarrass a mother, but I guess you'll not be letting him know that anytime soon. I sincerely hope I'm getting bear hugs from my chaps in their late 20s - and quite frankly, if they do, they can call me whatever they like!
Metropolitan Mum - yes, I get the feeling this is only the beginning...
Posted by: Dawn/LittleGreenFingers | May 30, 2010 at 12:55 PM
I had that exact same moment, the walks are boring moment. Ours was on Boxing Day in front of loads of people. Lovely.
Posted by: A Modern Mother | May 31, 2010 at 07:47 AM
:-) Love it and well done for getting the walk to be the best ever. I remember my middle sweetpea asking why a man had a fat willy when she was about 4! how do they come out with these things!
Posted by: Scented Sweetpeas | June 01, 2010 at 07:55 PM
A Modern Mother - yes, they always seem to pick the audience for maximum effect.
Scented Sweetpeas - I am sort of desperate now to know the rest of that story - and yet terrified as well in equal measure!
Posted by: Dawn/LittleGreenFingers | June 02, 2010 at 01:41 PM
God you're good.
Nature ramble booklets- what's wrong with bribes of tooth rotting sweets or a clip round the ear?
I am so pleased that my children are large or else I would spend hours being depressed while being humiliated by your aura.
I found the best thing with embarrassing small children was to go with it: I spent ages sitting on the floor in Sainsbury's building towers of tins while people looked at us disapprovingly. When they got bigger we would have races to find things from different ends of supermarkets: usually things that were not wanted like cake sprinkles or baking trays.
Nowadays they just raise their eyebrows and look at me as if was fat/stupid/riding a crap bike/all those other things.
Posted by: JamesA-S | June 05, 2010 at 12:26 PM