Things I Must Never Forget # 2
Four-year old Favourite Son comes down the stairs.
He and his sister are staying with me for a few days and I am stupidly happy at having a sensible reason to live for a change.
He’s always been very good at dressing himself but this morning he looks exceptionally dapper.
Me: Wow! You look very smart.
(I would like to stress that I rarely use the word ‘wow’ in a non-ironic sense. This was an exception.)
He shrugs and busies himself with something that doesn’t involve him being made to feel self-conscious in front of his Father.
We’re off on an Outing, but as I have explained to both of them, I need to quickly drop into my office for half an hour to Do Some Things because I’m the sort of cretin who can’t organize some simple time off without leaving things to do.
Less than an hour later we’re in my place of work. Favourite Son charms all around him without even trying, Favourite Daughter busies herself with doing my job better than me despite not having the slightest idea what I do for a living.
Favourite Daughter: [Looking up from her ‘work’] What are those?
Me: Um. Sweets.
FD: Who’s been eating them?
Me: Not me.
FD: Who then? Can I have one?
Me: No. You’ve not had lunch and you’ve had enough sugar. And I don’t know. Have a look around and see who you think looks like the sort of person that would steal my sweets.
Her eyes immediately flick at Blonde Colleague and dart away again. She shrugs.
Me: For what it’s worth I think you’re right.
I complete my ‘should have been done already’ tasks and we leave once I drag Favourite Son away from his new female admirers.
As we leave –
Favourite Son: Daddy?
Me: Yes?
FD: You have to be smart for work don’t you?
Me: ….. Oh. Yes.
As we head toward the local science center I now realize why he made such the effort - with his smartest pants, best shirt and co-ordinated ‘tank-top’ or whatever they’re called this year - earlier that morning.
His four-year old brain knew that we were ‘going to work’. I remember now that he said as much himself the night before as I outlined our activities for the day. I know now that he was probably more concerned about that than anything else.
And that he wanted to make the right impression. Perhaps for himself but maybe for his father as well.
He and his sister are staying with me for a few days and I am stupidly happy at having a sensible reason to live for a change.
He’s always been very good at dressing himself but this morning he looks exceptionally dapper.
Me: Wow! You look very smart.
(I would like to stress that I rarely use the word ‘wow’ in a non-ironic sense. This was an exception.)
He shrugs and busies himself with something that doesn’t involve him being made to feel self-conscious in front of his Father.
We’re off on an Outing, but as I have explained to both of them, I need to quickly drop into my office for half an hour to Do Some Things because I’m the sort of cretin who can’t organize some simple time off without leaving things to do.
Less than an hour later we’re in my place of work. Favourite Son charms all around him without even trying, Favourite Daughter busies herself with doing my job better than me despite not having the slightest idea what I do for a living.
Favourite Daughter: [Looking up from her ‘work’] What are those?
Me: Um. Sweets.
FD: Who’s been eating them?
Me: Not me.
FD: Who then? Can I have one?
Me: No. You’ve not had lunch and you’ve had enough sugar. And I don’t know. Have a look around and see who you think looks like the sort of person that would steal my sweets.
Her eyes immediately flick at Blonde Colleague and dart away again. She shrugs.
Me: For what it’s worth I think you’re right.
I complete my ‘should have been done already’ tasks and we leave once I drag Favourite Son away from his new female admirers.
As we leave –
Favourite Son: Daddy?
Me: Yes?
FD: You have to be smart for work don’t you?
Me: ….. Oh. Yes.
As we head toward the local science center I now realize why he made such the effort - with his smartest pants, best shirt and co-ordinated ‘tank-top’ or whatever they’re called this year - earlier that morning.
His four-year old brain knew that we were ‘going to work’. I remember now that he said as much himself the night before as I outlined our activities for the day. I know now that he was probably more concerned about that than anything else.
And that he wanted to make the right impression. Perhaps for himself but maybe for his father as well.
posted by Tired Dad at
8:22 pm
23 Comments:
I think you're right. They look after us in little ways that are sometimes very subtle.
Perhaps. I only realise it's happening until months later is the only thing.
That's lovely. And I don't mean it even slightly ironically.
Em. Thanks.
What a mind, what a man. I bet Thug Colleague was jealous.
They're only young once old bean.
Enjoy!!!
Mind you...they may do the same sort of stuff when they're older. Mine does.
Just never stop appreciating 'em eh?....or am I preaching to the converted?
Somehow I think I am.
Somehow that hurts, like when you see a frown appear - even if it's just with concentration, on a brow that has no frown lines yet.
Sounds as though dropping in at work was perceived as conscientious rather than disorganised. He'll probably drive his mother bonkers by talking about it all next week.
Shane: No doubt.
Dinners: I here you.
PB: Exactly.
Z: This was a while ago. Don't know if he did.
Anon: What?
This gave me the warm fuzzies. I rarely say 'warm fuzzies' in a non-ironic sort of way. Love ya; mean it.
Anon, Anon, just ring him at work. He loves it. Or he might murder you.
it should be a lovely memory for years on end, call it up when they do something special , like ring you up at 2 a.m. for bail money.Not that they will ever do that,kid
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ellie: I'm lost for words.
Em: I AM NOT A MURDERER.
Punx: We'll see.
Aw...that's really sweet. I have a 4 year old who only cares which superhero is featured on his underwear.
I really enjoy watching my 5 year dress himself - he has to concentrate so hard on buttons and zips (or not, if he is distracted, which is usually the case).
So many reasons to smile. Great post.
Anon: Thanks for the ceap tat advice.
Meg: He's Pretty concerned about that as well as it happens.
C: Thanks.
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He sounds adorable! They both do.
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Anon: (x2) Will. You. Fuck. Off.
Am I going to have to figure out how to turn on the spam filter? Am I?
Em: Gossip Girl and designer bags? Even my spam is gay.
Anon: Hello you. What has happened to your blog? It was good.
123: Thanks for your input.
I agree with everything that Anon says. Amazing insight. Nice post. Yeah.
I read this and wanted to comment, just because it was such a tender post - love it! But by the time I got to the end of ALL the comments was absolutely pissing myself laughing. Then, had to re-read the blog to get back to the tenderness.
p.s. Fuck off anonymous - oh dear, laughing again!
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