I'm sure some of you remember the irony of the BBC's summer holiday staple: 'Why don't you?' where the kids were told to switch off the TV and go out and try doing something less boring instead. Nowadays the corporation would be unable to broadcast that programme as between 6am and 7pm kids can watch wall-to-wall Cbeebies (with novelty disabled presenter) and CBBC. And, if I let him, my son would.
On Saturday I was awoken at 6am by my son yowling 'Mummy, I'm SICK' and proving his innate maleness by avoiding puking on the wipe-clean floorboards and instead covering my woven sea grass mat. Nice. I let him watch TV for a few hours whilst I checked his temperature (bucket ever to hand) and then decided he was fine. Therefore, I took him to the local museum where we had a great afternoon looking at fossils and doing interactive computer quizzes on the Romans.
In the evening he went to his Dad's and I met up with some Mums from his school. They had all generally been dealing with puke for the past 24 hours (and the one who hadn't yet switched her mobile to 'silent' so when her kid started chundering her partner couldn't call her home. Nice work). We had a great evening and then at eleven pm they returned to their families and I disappeared off into town with my pals. It was a bit of a random night in which we appeared to gatecrash someone else's birthday and then bumped into some blokes dressed as sheep. When one sheep gave me his fleece I thought it was time to get my coat and leave. So I did. (Without the sheep. In case you were wondering.).
In the morning when I awoke I was a little confused as to how my coat had changed fabric and colour overnight. Then I worked out (those 7 years of higher education were well worth it) that I had picked up someone else's coat and come home with it. I drove to town and tried to revisit the bar from the night before but it was totally locked up. I hung the impostor coat on the door and left.
On the way back to my car I wandered past 'Richer Sounds' and noticed a bit of a deal in the window - a TV which had been knocked down to a third of its original price. Now, my current TV is legendary amongst my friends. It was my baby sister's 18th birthday present in 1993, it has a tiny screen and you can't see what's happening on it when sitting on the sofa. 'Louise' once asked me whether it actually requires a TV licence. I've always liked it as it isn't imposing and takes up 0.5% of my house space compared to my books. But it is a little old. And it has a big dent in the side where my sister let a candle burn down on it. So, in 'Richer Sounds' I let a nice sales assistant talk me into buying a 32" flat screen LG LCD TV. And I even know what some of those initials mean. My old TV was not visible from across the room, this monster is visible from space.
Back home, I'm aware that now my son has even more impetus to watch more telly than is good for him. But I'm going to try to help him resist the urge. I've given up going online between the hours of 3pm and 7pm for Lent to spend more time with him. And it's lovely to spend time with a real person not just Facebook. So maybe I won't be able to get him to switch off the TV and go out and do something less boring instead, but I've banned myself from the internet during his time and it's lovely.
I just wish I could get my coat back.
Quick update!
10 years ago
