midnight motorway noises
27 February 2006
our children will thank us
The family across the road from my mum and dad are having a giant wooden replica pirate ship built in their front garden. It has decking, a mast and a plastic steering wheel. And it's not finished yet. This is after having their attic turned into an enormous play room for the little ones. Little spoilt ones.
I would have loved a pirate ship in my garden. In fact, I had frighteningly regular pangs to go and play on it when I went home last - I could have made myself an eyepatch and hobbled around with the rest of the scurvey-ridden eight year old shipmates - But Surely it spoils any chance they have of developing a vivid imagination? An imagination that will be increasingly useful when shutting out the increasingly scary world? Those children are going to have to change their lecturers into clowns one day, going to have to read a phone bill as an invitation for tea at Buckingham Palace. There are no life size pirate ships in the real world sonny, you'll just have to make do with a carboard box, a pillow case and a loo roll telescope like me. And the rest of us...
Walking though the park on Saturday I saw a boy (probably about four years old, maybe five) pushing around a duck on a stick. A toy duck, just to clarify. It waddled its feet when he pushed it along the pavement. My sister had a plastic lawn mower like it with little plastic bits of grass that flew about inside when you mowed, like you were chopping up the carpet, or the lino, or the head of an unsuspecting parent. Much better, I think. Although, maybe I'm just jealous.
The parents of the boy in the park are obvioulsy unaware of the fact that they are dangerously desensitising their little one to the dangers of today's British duck... You never know, zat 'armless little duck might just have popped over the Channel.
Pirate ship it is then.
I would have loved a pirate ship in my garden. In fact, I had frighteningly regular pangs to go and play on it when I went home last - I could have made myself an eyepatch and hobbled around with the rest of the scurvey-ridden eight year old shipmates - But Surely it spoils any chance they have of developing a vivid imagination? An imagination that will be increasingly useful when shutting out the increasingly scary world? Those children are going to have to change their lecturers into clowns one day, going to have to read a phone bill as an invitation for tea at Buckingham Palace. There are no life size pirate ships in the real world sonny, you'll just have to make do with a carboard box, a pillow case and a loo roll telescope like me. And the rest of us...
Walking though the park on Saturday I saw a boy (probably about four years old, maybe five) pushing around a duck on a stick. A toy duck, just to clarify. It waddled its feet when he pushed it along the pavement. My sister had a plastic lawn mower like it with little plastic bits of grass that flew about inside when you mowed, like you were chopping up the carpet, or the lino, or the head of an unsuspecting parent. Much better, I think. Although, maybe I'm just jealous.
The parents of the boy in the park are obvioulsy unaware of the fact that they are dangerously desensitising their little one to the dangers of today's British duck... You never know, zat 'armless little duck might just have popped over the Channel.
Pirate ship it is then.
gillyscribbles, at 10:09 pm
3 Comments:
Why do you always have to end with a crass bird flu joke? Knob.
Why do you always have to end with a crass bird flu joke? Knob.
once could have been seen as constructive criticism but twice is just plain mean.
so a german chicken, a french duck and a turkish... turkey all walk in to this bar, right, and...
so a german chicken, a french duck and a turkish... turkey all walk in to this bar, right, and...
