The other afternoon, Abigail and I were going to the park and at the end of the road near our house, there were a group of children playing on the road. They were completely oblivious and didn’t get out of the way until the car was almost right up to them. (I was going plenty slow so I didn’t hit them.) As they took their time getting out of the way I made some rude comments about it being a road, for cars, and how they shouldn’t be there.
Abigail said, “They don’t care.”
And I said, “Well, their parents should!”
“That’s what I mean,” she said. “Their parents don’t care if they play on the road.”
I’ve had this anecdote related to me a couple of times. My dad was a police officer. Apparently if he ever pulled over families in cars and the children weren’t wearing seat belts, instead of just telling the adults off and fining them, he took a somewhat different approach, which was probably quite effective but also probably not very officially approved of.
It would begin with an enquiry to the family about whether or not these parents loved their children. Invariably they confirmed that of course they loved their children, only for him to then challenge the logic of parents who claim to love their children but in fact do not care enough to take the simple measure of making sure they wear their seatbelts so as to reduce the risk to them in case of an accident.
It’s not really an argument that you can come up with a good response to; and much more effective than simply issuing a fine is knowing that every time in the future that you allow your kids to go without a seatbelt, they are going to be thinking about the day that a police man – a trustworthy authority figure – told them that you didn’t love them enough to do something for them that could be the difference between life and death.
Perhaps those kids playing on the road just need a police person to come and ask their parents why they want their children to be hit by a car. Because surely if they didn’t want that to happen, they wouldn’t allow their children to use the road as a recreational facility.
Yesterday while Daniel was in the shower, Abigail came and got into our bed next to me. We weren’t really talking, just both thinking our own waking up thoughts. Just as Daniel came back, Abby suddenly said, “Oh, it’s Wednesday today, isn’t it?” We agreed that it was, and asked her why that was noteworthy. “Because we have dancing on Wednesdays!”
So we were asking her about the dancing that they do. I asked if it was by yourself dancing or with someone else dancing. With someone else, she told us. “It is a bush dance called something* and you do it in couples.” I don’t know a lot about bush dancing (well, most dancing, to be honest) so I asked if you have to touch the other person. I mean that in a completely not wierd way. Turns out sometimes you do have to touch and sometimes you don’t. It depends on if you are the “top couple” or not.
“So you don’t have to put your hand on the shoulder and the other one on the waist?” I asked her, doing a vague demonstration in the air.
“No,” she assured me.
“Well they’re not gonna be teaching them ballroom dancing,” said Daniel, as if I should know this.
“But there are other…” I started.
“No, it’s not boring dancing, Daddy,” she said with an eyeroll in her voice. “It’s fun!”
“Boring dancing! Haha. I will have to remember that one to tell Kate,” I chuckled as I started to get up.
* She didn’t say “something”, she said a word, but I can’t remember what it was.
The tap in the bathroom sink has dripped since we moved in here. We have asked multiple times and been assured that it owuld get fixed and the owner is finally getting around to looking at it today. I think it might be fubared though. He bought new taps but apparently couldn’t use them because something in the old ones doesn’t fit. So he went to the hardware shop to get different ones but it turns out they don’t make those kind anymore. So now he is still fiddling with it trying to figure out how to fix it. The water is turned off which is kind of annoying because I have dishes to do, another thing to do which is a secret but I need some water for, and I am going to need to pee soon. Plus I need some stuff at the supermarket which I would like to get before it is time to get small people from school because it’s a nightmare taking them to the supermarket, and besides that, we have other secret stuff to do when they come back from school anyway.
Some amusing things I’ve been asked lately.
My mother: what’s FML?
Abigail: what’s sex?
Stephanie: what does a penis look like from the inside?
Yesterday my mother and I went into Bargain Box to look at some fabric. While we were in there, the radio they had on played Hello Goodbye. Ever since then, the song as been stuck in my head. I had mentioned at one stage that I would need to look it up and play it to get it out, but I forgot to do that yesterday. This morning Abigail asked me if I could do it because she was singing some of the words that she’d picked up from my repeated ‘performances’. So I searched for it, and this is the video I found.
As it started to play and she ambled up behind me to watch, there was a shot of one of them (George?) wearing a pirate style hat with a big feather on it. I imagine that they wouldn’t have appreciated when Abigail exclaimed “Oh, it’s The Wiggles!” (No doubt likening the feathered hat to that of Captain Feathersword.)