Ensuring kids’ cringe-quota is maintained during lockdown
Good to see the government has stepped in with some hardship grants to help out struggling students … it means I may get my car back!
A few weeks ago, Son Number One, who is back home from university, asked to be put on my car insurance … and I haven’t seen the vehicle or child since.
Maybe that hardship fund cash will eventually filter down to the poor saps funding these stay-at-home students. And by saps, I mean parents. I wouldn’t hold your breath.
It’s clear, however, that the hard work our Bradley is putting into his ‘quantity surveying’ course is beginning to pay off. He is constantly surveying what’s around him and consuming it in large quantities!
I don’t begrudge him borrowing/stealing (delete where applicable) my car, as it does have its advantages.
Forget the old adage ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ with the kids, it’s a case of ‘out of sight, out of my fridge.’
Funnily enough, Son Number Two, the blond one (I’ve never been good with names), prefers me to be out of sight. But then I take that as a compliment.
Like many dads, I take great pride in being a constant source of embarrassment to my children, and it’s good to know that age has not dimmed my cringe factor. In fact, my embarrassment-inducing abilities have grown exponentially.
Just being in their presence is enough to provide an instant heart-sink and eye-roll.
And Covid has served to boost opportunities for public humiliation. When shopping with Isaac (I knew the name would come back to me) I can do a classic voice throwing routine.
As we’re both wearing masks I can ask him questions loudly … and provide the replies in a squeaky voice as if it’s him.
“Isaac, would you like soft toilet paper?” instantly followed by a squeaky “Yes daddy, my bum very sore.”
As he walks away from me in embarrassment, I keep up the squeaky voice, shouting: “I go for wee wee now daddy. Don’t forget to buy my wart cream.”
“No problem son. Soft paper and wart cream for your bum bum it is then.”
I may not be able to drive my own car, but I can least drive my teenage kids crazy.
Man’s got to have a hobby...