Ah the natural curiosity of children. Isn’t it a beautiful thing?
Ha! Only a fool would make such a claim! It is, in fact, an unpredictable hair trigger waiting to ping mud all over the faces of the parents who were foolhardy enough to parade their children in public.
Children will point. Children will exclaim. Children will stare open mouthed. Children will drop you right in it.
Yesterday my son, Indy, who is old enough to know better, exclaimed sharply “Mum! Look!” and made me turn round and look straight at a little girl with quite extreme birth defects.
All of a sudden I unwittingly turn into one of the legions of people who gape and stare at this little girl and her mum.
Indy realised what he’d done as soon as it happened, especially when I turned sharpish back to him with the face that instantly says:
“Shutuprightnowwemighthavegotawaywithit
butyouareinbigtroublemakenomistake”
You know the one.
Once the coast was clear I realised that Indy was starting to tear up a bit, about what he had just done, so I said, “It’s OK, it’s OK you just can’t do that to me OK? You can’t stare and whisper at people. That poor woman probably has to put up with people staring at her little girl all the time.”
“I know, I’m sorry” he said, cheeks flushed and lip trembling slightly. I could tell he felt pretty bad and I suppose yesterday will have marked the point where he realises you can’t blurt out like a banshee every time you see a dwarf, midget, hunchback, Rastafarian, excessively tall person* or any other remarkable character that the two of my children have routinely shrieked at throughout the years.
Life lessons, eh?
Sadly for Meeester and I, we’ve got years of this still to come in the form of one four year old Junior Misssy, though.
One incident happened quite loudly and recently.
There is a woman who works in a local department store who is no bigger than Junior Misssy. She was stationed at the changing rooms when we went in.
“Mummy, why is that wee girl working here?” she bellowed like Brian Blessed in a high wind.
Understand folks, the “wee girl” is standing right in front of us, giving us our tag for the changing area. The woman smiles and says hello to Junior. She also remarks on how cute Junior is, presumably to dissolve my embarrassment. I suppress the urge to haul the still staring Junior away by the scruff before more damage can be done and Jnr Misssy returns the compliment to her.
In the changing room it goes on, “But Mummy how come that wee girl works here?”
“She’s not a wee girl she’s just a lady who is tiny” I whisper, not sure if I am being any more PC than my daughter.
Loudly (please note all of Junior’s dialogue is LOUD in this scenario) she says, “But why is that tiny lady working here?”
It’s like she’s actually questioning why the woman has a job here, and she doesn’t. I am also instantly regretting using the phrase "tiny lady".
I whisper an explanation of the woman being very tiny as a baby and not growing very big as she got older but still able to work and fine in all other respects. After some further key questions are answered, I am happy that Junior Misssy has understood and will be quiet for the next five minutes until we can escape.
Junior is indeed quiet. So quiet that I when turn round to see what she is up to, I see she has poked her whole head out the curtain and is full on staring at the “tiny lady”.
We have to get out.
Jnr Misssy talks about the tiny lady all the way home. In fact she talks about her still, when we’re in town. “Will we see the tiny lady?” “Why does that tiny lady work there again?”
Jeeez. I can never go back.
And it’s not just tiny ladies that have found Junior Misssy’s radar. On holiday, we were sitting down to breakfast when a 3 year old Junior Misssy shouts, “Mummy, look at that fat lady eating!!” as a poor innocent chubby woman tucks into her buffet breakfast.
Junior’s proclamation is loud and pointy enough for me to have to apologise to the woman, probably making it all worse.
Mind you, I bet she just had a grapefruit the next day.
* All actual occurrences. Apologies to all concerned.
16 comments:
It could have been worse - they might have got the giggles.
Life would be so much simpler if the PC brigade hadn't come along and spoiled our fun. Everyday could have been just like one big episode of Catchphrase with your subconscious Roy Walker yelling "Say what you see, just say what you see"
"Hello Fatty, my daughter has just noticed you enjoying your All You Can Eat Breakfast? Tuck in!"
My Tiddler does the staring thing as an art form. It doesn't help that he looks like the scary kids from Village of the Damned (original obv.). If it wasn't for his right hand moving about inside the front of his trousers while he does it, I suspect people might reward him with money as a living statue.
5 year olds boys are such fun.
Gorilla: Oh I was once really guilty of that. I spotted this bloke with long wavy hair and a long beard asleep on a bench with his girlfriend who was draped across him with her equally long bushy hair covering his chest- he looked like Captain Caveman and i completely lost it.
Jaggy: I love the idea of an inner Roy Walker!
Duck: My kids are more "Children of the Corn".
Ha! I once had a boss whose five-year-old walked up to her at a company picnic and proclaimed, "Mom, I can see that lady's vagina!" He was referring to another coworker in a pair of short-shorts. I couldn't help but cry with laughter. I'm sure this will come back to haunt me when I have children.
Ashley: Precious! That's going in the hat for next week's comment of the week, for sure!
As I have only boys, when they were young, we developed a habit of pointing at adverts on the TV for girly things - Barbies, dolls, Bratz etc - and roundly denouncing them in graphic terms. Unfortunately, my 5 and 3 year olds took this habit on the road and pointed at any poor little girl we met who was carrying/wearing/riding on anything pink, whilst shouting "Du-u-umb!" and making vomiting noises. Took a fair bit of explaining.
I remember when my brother was about three, and I was seven, we were in the office of the local insurance company with my mum. In full on inquisitive shouty mode, my brother, in front of a packed office, pointed at a man with alopecia and said: "MUM, WHY'S THAT MAN GOT NO HAIR?"
Loth: I can see their point with Bratz though, to be fair.
Jock: Yeah, always the brother, isn't it? ;)
My mother often relays a story of me as a child remarking loudly "Why has auntie Susan got a mouser like daddy?"
My poor aunt! She has subsequently had a full face of electrolysis and looks great, so I suspect my five year old self wasn't the only one to take notice. But still.
I don't know misssy, I rather enjoy my four year old's verbal faux pas "Why is that woman so ugly?" etc. She simply says what I want to say. I find the why why why business more troubling. I don't know why the lady is ugly, the lady is wee, the man is fat etc etc
Never mind, you can embarrass them back a couple of years from now by wearing, say, a bright pink shell-suit when taking them to school. To pick an item totally at random.
Cat; At least she didn't go for the Jolene facial bleach prompting the little five year old you question, "Why does Auntie Susan look like a Dutch porn star?"
Emma: There are TV shows that make their money out of just such a thing. Junior Misssy did say recently about her friend's (much older) Dad, "Why is Jenny's Dad a Grandad?" which I thought was quite funny.
Mr Farty: Done and done!
Oh I wish I had a child so I could enjoy such things. My sister was on the plane back from here to Australia when the nephew, then three, chanced upon girl with multiple piercings. "Mummy who put nails into that lady's head?"
Fair question.
How I wish I had read this post before taking my young neice shopping. Being a 'non mother' I had no idea of the potential for embarrassment. When we went shopping the lady in front of us put a box of Tampax on the checkout and Holly said (very very loudly) "Do you know what they are for? They are for sticking up your botty when it bleeds". I still cringe to think about it.
Ms R: Well if you do insist in drawing attention to yourself with multiple piercings then you must expect remarks, I say.
Bottle: That is quite the most embarrassing one in the list. But factually accurate, so points to your niece on both counts.
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