Thank you Judith, parents owe you one
Back in the good old days, when men exclusively used Old Spice and fish was only served on Fridays, the threat of an early bedtime without any tea was a popular form of psychological warfare.
The prospect of being sent up the wooden hill at half past five before even a mouthful of faggots and peas had passed one’s lips was a sure fire way to ensure that a child of the 70s or the 80s would finish their homework or help wash out the SodaStream.
How times have changed. Ask most 21st Century parents how they administer domestic discipline and you will hear an array of tactics, although most of them will relate in some way or another to small flickering screens.
Threaten to deprive today’s child of access to their precious tablet, mobile phone or, if they reside in a particularly retro house, television, then you are almost certain to get a reaction. The rationing of screentime is a tool used by mums and dads everywhere, giving extra credence to the long held belief that our young belong to generation which is obsessed with technology.
But, we shouldn’t rush to pull on our size 10s in order to issue a kicking to modern youth as our kids are there is plenty of hope for future, especially when you consider that our young’s love of books is as strong as ever.
Last week, the death of the acclaimed children’s author Judith Kerr was met with an outpouring of sadness and nostalgia, usually reserved for a member of the Royal Family or a light entertainment great.
During her long career she gifted the nation with timeless classics such Tiger Who Came to Tea and the brilliant Mog series and it is clear that her legacy will live for many decades to come. On learning of the 95-yearold’s death, my nine-year-old exclaimed ‘Not Judith Kerr’ and I am pretty sure that this will have been repeated in homes across the land.
Her books have been required family reading for more than half a century because of their simplistic genius. Her story about a famished tiger who turned up at a schoolgirl’s house and proceeded to clear out the cupboards and empty the taps has defined millions of childhoods.
Kerr’s genius was to bring magic to the mundane - an evening stroll with mum and dad to the cafe for sausages and chips anyone?
Hers are the books that my parents read to me, that I still read to my children and, I am in no doubt that my children will read to their offspring. This is nothing new as great writing endures for centuries but it is still reassuring to see the effects of fantastic stories on young minds, even though there are now so many alternative forms of entertainment out there.
I get a huge kick out of the fact that my kids, who are certainly no strangers to the world of tech, get as excited about a trip to the local library than they do about going to the cinema and during any trip to town, it is a near certainty that we will be pestered into venturing into our local Waterstones.
The bedtime ritual for our youngest is painfully drawn out as he insists of emptying his bookshelves before deciding on what tale he would like to fall asleep to but it is a mini-drama we wouldn’t ever change.
Thank you Judith Kerr, parents everywhere really do owe you one.