My little sister thinks that when I'm in the bath that's her cue for conversation time.
She will not speak to me all day, but as soon as I'm in the bath
she must come in and have a full blown mothers meeting with me.
What is it with kids and the bathroom, they think its a playground.
One day I came home to find that she had covered the whole bathroom in toilet paper
...Enough said.
Anyone with a little sister/brother/niece/nephew/cousin would have experienced this,
when you take the child shopping the child may momentarily call you mum or dad,
based on the fact that they are used to being taken out by their parents...
But as a young person with no kids of your own,
the minute that child mistakes you for their parent,
your whole life flashes before your eyes and the reality hits that in twenty
years time someone may actually be calling you mum or dad.
(Hopefully you wont be called mum and dad, cause that's just weird)
But for now you turn around and snap,
''I'm not your mother/father ''
....
Now this statement has many-a-times caused the whole shop to
come to a awkward stand still at the declaration
that I am not my little sisters mother...
As if I'm revealing some sort of harsh reality and family secret in such a public way ...
This silence carries on until my little sister responds
''oohhh haha I meant Jam not mum''
then all is calm again in the balance of the universe.
Children have been known to do some strange things ..
I am the classic example.
I could read fluently from the age of two,
yet I didn't realise hair didn't grow back instantly.
Allow me to explain...
When I was four years old I witnessed my mum trimming my dads hair,
so with me being the adventurous rebel that I was and still am (ahem),
I decided to run into the next room,
hide underneath the table and chop off random patches of my hair. . . .
To this day I have a vivid memory of the whole episode,
and I cannot even begin to express the amount of joy it gave me to chop off my hair,
which upon reminiscing about, i now find my excitement quite disturbing.
Any who,
once my parents noticed my absence it was abit too late.
After their initial shock they explained to me that I was destined
to have bald patches for a while until it grew back.
You should of seen my face, i remember that feeling of sadness as well...
Moral of the story,
keep the scissors in the bathroom,
and keep the bathroom door locked.
Still Aspiring
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