9 May 2011
I think I may need to add a new stripe to my parenting badge of honour.
I was trying to entertain my children in the GP's waiting room the other day. They had been playing nicely with their sticker books and I felt smug and rather proud. Well, you know what they say about pride, don't you? That's right.
Here comes the fall.
Presley, 3, POINTED to a large young man (think Roland from Grange Hill, aged about 18) and uttered these mortifying words in a loud, clear voice, with perfect diction:
"MUMMY, MUMMY, HE'S A FUNNY MAN. HE'S A FUNNY MAN, MUMMY".
I mouthed a 'sorry' and grimaced at the poor lad as he pulled his collar up over his red face. I told Presley that we don't talk about people like that. The boys then abandoned their sticker books in order to climb all over the seats and shout a lot.
By this point it was too late to tut loudly and pretend they weren't my children.
Oh. The. Shame.