My kids are amazing. Not a day goes by where I’m not floored by their innocence and enthusiasm. They have a pretty sweet life. Being a parent, of course, has many sweet moments, but on the whole is a bit like running a marathon you never finish. A marathon where you always need a wee but can’t go without an audience. And no matter how hard you try, you will always be overtaken by Spongeboard SquarePants near the finish line. The smug twat.
Which got me to wondering what I would do if I had the life my kids have…. and what things would I LOVE to be able to do as an adult that kids can get away with…
- Be so engrossed in playing/ crafting/ staring at CBeebies that pissing yourself is absolutely acceptable. It would be a bit rank, but pretty liberating. Especially if someone else removed pissy pants and provided nice dry ones without you having to break eye contact with Dr Ranj.
- Noticing something different about a stranger and unashamedly staring the shit out of them, before walking over and asking ‘why is your hair purple?’ It would be super refreshing. At my age, I’m so British that someone could be doing the macarena dressed as a turnip and I would still avert my eyes and pretend I haven’t seen them.
- Approaching someone on their phone and swiping their screen without asking. Just to see the rage on their face. This would be especially satisfying if they were mid-bid on eBay.
- Being resolute when requesting chocolate for breakfast. So much so that sulking under the table is the only response to the polite reminder that chocolate is not an acceptable breakfast food.
- Upon discovering that something is missing from the area 30cm around me, shouting its name repeatedly until someone runs over and finds it for me. SPOON! SPOON! SPOON! SPOON! SPOON! SPOON! SPOON! SPOON! SPOON!
- Getting 11 hours sleep a night amongst 13 soft animals, and being soothed back to sleep when dreaming about baddies with cuddles and reassuring words. Even if I attempted to get this much sleep, my inner monologue of anxious drivel would keep me awake for the majority of the time worrying about pressing issues such as why Postman Pat only has 4 fingers.
- See advert, love advert, demand advert be rewound and replayed 300 times, ask for item from the advert. Express extreme displeasure at the response of ‘not on your nelly’ and persevere with the request until someone says ‘If you’re good you might get it for Christmas.’ Of course, this would require no understanding of the feasibility of receiving the item (based on cost/ appropriateness) but would mean I ultimately receive a new sofa.
- Find pure joy in a fart. Unfiltered, unashamed joy.
- Decide that I want to eat from the purple plate, only when my sibling/ dinner companion has the plate, kick off about the unfairness and decide it’s their fault, sabotage their plate with tomatoes and watch unholy hell break loose.
- Feel unconditionally loved, safe, secure and happy all the time. Apart from when the Problem Blob from Numberjacks is on the TV. Having such pure innocence that a hug and some cheese would erase all worries in an instant and happiness would resume. Wouldn’t that be just wonderful.
I might just start taking some kidspiration (see what I’ve done there pun fans) from my wee ones and seeing some of these through. Maybe not number 1. And on reflection, I might already be guilty of number 8…. 😉