I woke my children up singing loudly (and off key) “Do you want to build a snowman?” on Saturday morning. A pillow thrown at my head didn’t stop me, although JB pouring a bucket of snow over me while I was taking a shower kind of put a dampener on my enthusiasm. I got my own back on Sunday when I did the same to him. Revenge is a dish best served (or poured on the head) cold!
I received a text message from my mum first thing on Saturday morning, saying she was outside catching snowflakes on her tongue – in her pjs! Don’t know what the neighbours would have thought but then she has had an ambition since she turned 60 to being one of the mad old biddies in the ‘When I Am Old’ poem by Jenny Joseph. I wouldn’t say she is spending her pension on brandy and summer gloves (though she has a yearning for wearing purple and mismatched red hats), but she is certainly wearing slippers in the rain and I know she runs her umbrella along public railings. She says she is practicing for when she has her stick. I hope that I’m as nutty as she is when I reach her age.
Perhaps when we get old we go full circle in our joie de vivre about things like snow. I caught Zac licking the snow off the windows but at least he had taken heed and not tried the same thing on the lamppost. I caught him once trying to lick the ice on the top of the freezer but then I am sure I had done the same thing at some point in my life, though I think that was after a drunken night out and I was a lot older than four years old!
Maybe my inner child is struggling to get out. Though she has got a battle on her hands being constrained by granny pants and a sports bra – that’s my token nod to exercise! I accompanied Zac to a couple of birthday parties on Saturday and was having a fabulous time chasing the kids as a monster while they bashed me with balloon swords until I saw the look of sheer embarrassment on Zac’s face and was told by him in no uncertain terms to sit down with the other mummies. I should have learnt. Livy had said the same thing to me when I was a chaperone at the school disco. She hadn’t appreciated my mummy dancing, though the other children seemed to have enjoyed it.
Which goes to show that I may have an idealised rose-coloured glasses view of what having a family should be like. Well, kids have an idea of how parents should behave too. And drawing a big circle in eye liner round a giant spot on my forehead and telling them I was turning into a unicorn is probably not what they had in mind. But then I have never been one to conform to a stereotype so I have put my order in for walking sticks and purple hats, I’m getting in practice early!