Boy8 was trying to talk to me.
And I didn't listen.
I am not proud of me.
I am not proud of me.
It doesn't matter how busy I am, how I am feeling, or what level I was just about to complete.
Giving any of the goblins children my time is essential. I have so little when I am not at workington.
It should be a reflex thing.
Boy8: Dad?
Boy8: Dad?
<Spins round>
Yes? <Everything in hands flies out from centrifugal effect>
<Knocks over BabyBoy1 as he was too close>
Boy8: Ha ha haaa!!!
Stop doing that <Turns back to very important tower building>
Boy8: Dad!
<Spins round>
Yes! <Wooden block in hand flies out and smacks Boy8 on the noggin>
Hahahaaaaa
When Team Parents (yay!) were looking at schools for Boy8.
When Team Parents (yay!) were looking at schools for Boy8.
A few millenia ago. One of things that I loved about the school he is now at. Was how close the pub was the deputy head, who is now the head.
<Whispers> poison... in the pick and mix
The deputy head was clearly busy, but without fail, no matter what child we passed or saw, not matter what they were doing. This inspirational lady stopped, knew the child's name and listened to what they said.
OVER the adults. Us. HOW DARE SHE!
She stopped us talking, politely, because a child was talking and listened to them first. She still does that as head.
Honestly that impressed me more than anything else we saw.
And they had robot lobsters...
(So kewl! ... and tasty ... Kwasty!)
We did visit another school.
I couldn't help think that the head was an utter dick. He did the opposite with the kids.
He made the kids wait. He didn't know their names, I'm sure he guessed at a few as well.
Dick-head: 'Twatface?'
Child: ‘No’
Dick-head: 'Smell pants?'
Child: ‘No’
You sure?
Dick-head: 'Johnny Snotty-snot Farty Bum Wimple?'
Child: ‘Yes sir?’ <Cries internally>
He probably ran a good school.
As a functional community building, he was probably nailing it. Good for him.
But he made the children wait.
Twonk.
Prioritising kids is not easy to do.
Prioritising kids is not easy to do.
Try doing it with your mates. It's hard to do. Especially down the pub.
Because it's a bit rude isn't it. You are basically saying the child's words are more important than theirs. It doesn't go down well with everyone.
It easy to get wrapped up in our adult world where things (kinda) make sense so that when a child starts their weird nonsensical talking, it can jar with our grown up thoughts. It's hard and exhausting to switch to another language all the time.
But... We're adults and whatever we are saying could probably wait.
Unless it's bullet, flying toy, last orders, or they're giving out free Star Wars stuff, related.
‘Dad…’ <Sheepishly paws at ground>
‘Dad…’ <Sheepishly paws at ground>
Yep
‘I have something important to tell you’
Is it about your socks?
‘Yes? Yes I am all hairy ears
‘It's hard to say... I've been... I've been worrying about…’
Tannoy: [FREE STAR WARS STUFF! RUN MAN! RUN!]
‘... lately’ <Cough cough>
[Dust cloud appears]
‘Dad? Dad? Are you still here?‘ <Waves arms trying to clear the dust>
‘Where did all this dust come from? I can't see you?’
<Bottom lip wobbles>
(FREEEEEEESTUUUUUFFFFFFFFF!!!!!)
Boy8 tried to talk to me the other morning.
I was making lunches, eating cake, drinking tea, rocking out to music and I'm pretty sure I was trying to pay for something school related on my phone.
In short. I was too wrapped up in whatever I was doing to listen.
Boy8 got cross with me.
Boy8 told me off for not listening. Using his attempt at my voice. It was bloody funny.
Boys had a point.
I hadn't been listening.
I had guessed what he was going to say.
I had guessed what he was going to say.
Boy8 had a new plastic collectable toy. Blobs (Whatever...). 1 squid each. And he was very excited about them.
I was not. Which is not really like me. I normally love his toys.
I’ll play most things, and start collecting them myself.
Just these, Blobs, seemed a bit poor by my standards. I couldn't see the fun.
So I guessed what he was going to say.
I guessed he was gonna to bore the pants off me about the Blobs.
So I just pretend to listen.
I felt bad.
I felt bad.
I still feel a bit bad. It was quite a conscious decision to not listen and just pretend.
I totally didn't get away with it either.
Boy8 stormed off. Chanked right off (annoyed) with me.
Fair play to him.
<Hangs head in shame>
I let himstomp off go.
I let him
Then stood there and wondered at what I had just done.
Wondered at what a smegger I had just been.
Wondered at what I needed to do to undo my own icky mess. I realised.
<SIGH>
I went and found him to say sorry, and give him a damn good listening to.
Sorry mate
Sorry mate
<Huffily turns away from me>
I am really sorry, I was busy earlier (lie) and didn't listen
But I really want to hear what you have to tell me (true)
I have time to listen now
Please tell what you were going to say
<Huffs a bit more>
Please <Gives him playful arm hits taps>
‘...well… This one is like this, because...’
<I am forgiven>
I am very glad I bothered to undo my mistake.
I am very glad I bothered to undo my mistake.
Boy8 really wanted to tell some stuff. He went on for ages.
It was really important to him. I have no idea why or how. But it was. To him. Not me.
I listened brilliantly, like a boss, like the best Dad ever undoing his own worst Dad mistake.
I had to.
Somehow or another, I had pretty much begged him to tell me about his Blobs, so either I had learnt my lesson... or Boy8 is an evil manipulative genius.
("Soooo… What’cha wanna do tonight? Board game?")
And truth be told.
Once I started listening for him, instead to what he said .
I really enjoyed it. (lie)
I barely made it out alive...