Small children are great

I love babies and small children. They remind me of what life is like before reality invades and spoils all the innocence.

It might sound like an odd comment to make, but it struck me all over again that I love small children today when I was in the chip shop waiting for my cod and chips to finish cooking. The lady in front of me had several children, and the youngest was in a pushchair. I guess he must have been around two. He was hungry and tired, and really didn’t want to be in town any more, and was letting the world know at the top of his lungs!

Well, there was nothing for it but to crouch down and see if I could help him stop crying. I have no idea whatsoever why or how it happened, but in under a minute a screaming child who just wanted mum to take him home calmed down and just watched what was going on around him until mum gave him a chip from his freshly served meal.

I don’t know if it’s a gift, calming children; but if it is, I’m well grateful for it! I just wish I had a few children of my own and didn’t have to practice on tired children in the supermarket while they wait for mum to finish paying!

On the other hand, a few of the other mothering talents would be great to have too; like having the motivation to wash up before things reach the stage of recycling the last cup for a week. Laundry’s never an issue. It’s almost a compulsion. I have to have clean sweet-smelling clothing. Tidying up is another major on that I managed to miss out on too…

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