Monthly Archives: April 2007

Ironing plastic

I’m not one to iron if I don’t have to. The children’s school uniforms are never sullied by steam. It’s as much as I can do to get them out of the house without breakfast all down them, and since … Continue reading

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Dangerous Boys

Yesterday Ben came home from school with a list. “It’s all the things a boy should have,” he told me, “Mark found it in a book about boys.” “The Dangerous Book for Boys?” I enquire. “Yes, that’s it!” he says, … Continue reading

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Cheers!

So now I find we may soon be breaking the law by allowing our daughter to have a thimble full of wine with dinner once in a while. The argument on the Today programme this morning was about 11-15 years … Continue reading

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If music be the food of love…

When your son starts learning to play the guitar, the last thing you expect him to come home practising is something from a time before he was born, before even some of his friends’ parents were born – not us … Continue reading

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Institutionalised

Like the guinea pigs, I’m thoroughly institutionalised. They prefer the limitations of their enclosure to the frighteningly wide open spaces of the outside world, and I suddenly find I’m relieved to be sent home from a rare night out at … Continue reading

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How to embarrass your children…

… dance first at the kids’ disco. Well I had to, otherwise they wouldn’t have found the courage to dance and they’d have missed out on fun and frolics with Mc Fly. We were on our way back from France … Continue reading

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Night Manoeuvres

One of the least welcome developments in child rearing has left us numbed by physical exhaustion and mental trauma. I’m not talking Contented Little Baby, Toddler Taming or Raising Boys, but The Sleepover Party, aka Lord of the Flies without … Continue reading

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Breakfast politics

My morning so far (it’s now 09.16) 1 – Alarm goes off at 07.20, listen to Radio 4 until sports news, then crawl out of bed 2 – On the way to the bathroom check Hannah is awake, and venture … Continue reading

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The Hippy Trail

Just look at him – those clothes, that hair, those Freeman Hardy and Willis shoes – just £5.99 and they saw him across Nepal and the rest of the Hippy Trail, or so he tells me. And now, those flowing … Continue reading

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Leaving Home

He left with three days’ worth of sandwiches in his backpack, lovingly prepared by his mother. “There’s ham, cheese, and some of your favourite…” “Marmite” they said it together, their eyes meeting as the crowds pushed past them to get … Continue reading

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