Friday, December 28, 2007
Relive Your Childhood.
One of the narcissistic things about having kids is that you get to relive your selfish childhood memories "through them" (ie. violently shove them aside, seizing the toy and going on to entertain yourself for a good half hour or so before you notice your poor child has gotten wedged between the sofa and the wall and has been calling for you to help them for the past twenty minutes. Okay, not really, but I'm sure that's happened to some poor neglected child somewhere...)
This year, we got my daughter Play Doh. Oh my God, do the memories come flooding back... The smell of it, the way it gets stuck under my finger nails, the way it attaches itself firmly to the shag of the carpet with haunting echoes of my mother's cries of "Bloody hell, not more of the stuff stuck in my beige carpet! Stay on the newspaper, for Christ's sake!"
You'll be delighted to know that this new stuff doesn't seem to stick to carpet fibers as voraciously as the stuff I grew up with. And you'll also be delighted to know that I really don't need therapy despite the fact that I hear my mother's voice all the time despite her being thousands of miles away at the moment. I know my mummy loves me and I intend to inflict the same love on my daughter. Let the cycle continue!