Today's children have lots of toys. Lots and lots of toys. They have so many toys that sometimes I think of sticking an oar into my daughter's room and knocking things out of the window, to clear enough room for me to find a place to hide.
It is therefore bitterly ironic that - whatever major retailers and fat, jolly, bearded men would have you believe - children aren't all that interested in toys. Oh, no. They want something better. They want the stuff they shouldn't have.
This is what they want.
The TV remote
It is a little-known fact that the number of children in a household can be gauged very accurately by the amount of sticky tape wrapped around the TV remote. It doesn't matter where you put the thing - they'll get hold of it.
They may not know how to use it, or even what it's for, but they know - deep down, like some bizarre modern-day instinct - that Daddy likes it so it must be theirs.
Perhaps it's the coloured buttons, or the way it fits into the hand so neatly. Perhaps it's the way that Daddy clutches it desperately while glaring at the people on the Jeremy Kyle Show and repeating, again and again, "We're not like them. We're not like them." Perhaps it's just some evil ingrained in children.
Sooner or later, every toddler is going to get hold of the remote. That remote is then going to be dashed on the floor with all their little might. If you're lucky, it may still work. Only more tape can save it now.
Hot drinks
I drink a lot of tea. It's essential when you have a busy 19-hour day with added brats. Sometimes I switch to coffee, for a MarioKart turbo boost. I hug my mug all day and, boy, is it hard to hold on to.
In a crazy reversal of animals' sense of self-preservation, children are drawn to scalding water. Something about a hot drink makes them lurch towards it like the Walking Dead. Sooner or later, you're going to put your cup or mug down somewhere and some little flesh-eater's going to go straight for it.
I'm thinking of having a special mug made, with a picture of some Brussels sprouts on it. That's sure to repel them. But for now I'll stick to the tried and tested solution of climbing bodily onto the window sill and holding the children back with the aid of screaming and a long stick.
Computer keyboards
SLAP, BANG, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH! No, it's not one of those new-fangled popular beat combos. It's what children do when they get within reach of a computer.
To be fair, it is fun. If you hit the keys in the right order, there is entertainment. Sometimes there are trolls but every kiddie knows that some goats will be along to kill them soon. They just want to hit the buttons, very hard.
Such treatment tends to horrify the parent who spent slightly too much money on the computer, thanks to the confusing nonsense spouted by a teenager in a bad tie in PC World. Parents would like their fancy gadget to remain unshattered, please - at least until they work out how to use it properly.
Nope. SLAP, BANG, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH! MORE!
Anything unhygenic
Trampled toast on the floor. Muddy footwear left in a corner. Worms. The bin. Even - shudder - the toilet brush. Children have a special radar for things that any sensible person would only touch with the aid of latex gloves and a bottle of bleach.
There's a very good argument for letting them build up their immune systems, to promote good health in later life. That's of little use, however, if they come down with scrofula now.
Children also have a very good sense of timing. Any child worth his membership of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants will decide to lick the sole of a filthy wellington boot at exactly the moment an unsuspecting parent is up to the elbows in a hot oven or has a fistful of raw chicken. A cry of "NOOOOOOO!" will be cheerfully ignored.
Curtains
These surprisingly-expensive items are also a draw for mischievous ankle-biters. Often, they're hanging at just the right height to hide behind. They're soft and warm and they move around in a fun way.
They also provide good potential for what can only be described an an evil lair. Children do so love to hide in the curtains, then, cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, leap out at exactly the moment a parent is polishing the vase that Aunty Betty gave them for a wedding present. Broken glass on the floor is a bonus that not even the best soft play centres can provide.
Often, a parent will resort to the natural solution of shrieking in terror and rage at the child, who may well counter with the long-established waterworks defence. The real solution is to tear the curtains down in one swift movement. If you don't, then your child probably will.
As usual, I'm presenting a serious of problems and no really practical advice, but this time I think I have some. It involves velcro strips on the ceiling and on the children's backs but I'm not telling you any more. It's my idea and one day it will make me a millionaire.
Or maybe I can use sticky tape?
No comments:
Post a Comment