One of the things I am growing to dislike about Grizzlewick's long and winding road to "big-kidhood" is his ever-growing independence.
Don't get me wrong, I would love nothing more than for him to wake up, make his own breakfast, slouch out of the house for the day with nary a grunt behind him, and leave me to a blissful morning of, well, let's be honest, housework*.
But at this age (4) his independence is nothing short of terrifying.
Last weekend, I was doing a bit of, erhum, housework, and he decided to help. As I was heading out the backyard to hang out the washing, he noted that the floor needed vacuuming.
"Yes it does," I agreed. "Just wait until I hang this washing out and then we will do it together".
When I returned inside, he was sitting on the kitchen bench with a sopping wet vacuum cleaner plug (he'd tipped over a vase getting on the bench), holding it out towards the power socket.
I shrieked.
I knocked it out of his hand.
He started crying.
Then Mr Fix and I spent about thirty minutes telling him in a variety of ways how scared we were by what he had done, and how accidents with electricity could mean you "have to go to hospital". However, given his advanced state of howling, it's fair to say we weren't getting through to him.
Our usual response in these situations is to call in the "big guns". And that means Pa. You see, Mr Fix and I can say anything we want. But in place of a higher being, my son has his grandfather. And what he says, although he is often very accommodating of the little tyke, carries a weight that I couldn't have foreseen.
Luckily we were headed out to my folks for dinner. So when we arrived, I said to Grizzlewick,
"Hey, you should have a talk to Pa about electricity".
So he very solemnly walked up to my father, looked up at him with saucer-sized eyes and said solemnly,
"Pa. Electricity is dangerous. You really shouldn't play with it. And never never vacuum without Mummy"
* But in my mind it's not housework. No. In my mind, it's a long sleep in, lazy breakfast, reading the paper from cover to cover and possibly watching 'Insiders' without interuption. Pah! Like that will ever happen.
Thursday, 31 May 2007
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4 comments:
OMG I totally know how you felt! My 'bubby' is only 22 months - and yet is apparently afraid of, well, nothing - and also tries Everything. The vacuuming also became an issue with him trying to 'help' me all the time. I found this GREAT toy vacuum, that has these little white balls inside so that when the bubs turns it on they whizz around the 'dirt' compartment. You can even empty them out - and this little battery operated machine will suck 'em right back up again. It's been a godsend, because now when I get out the 'big' vacuum, he rushes off to get his and 'help' me, this time only safely!
How very cute! But vacuuming without Mummy is a good thing - maybe you could train him to do it for you? Or is that uncool child labour? I'm so confused.
Valkyrie,
Oh how I have tried that with (but not limited to) the following
1. Mini shovels and buckets
2. Wheelbarrows
3. Spray and wipe
He is quite smart, and knows that I will selfishly give myself the "best" of everything.
KR,
Yes. Death by electrocution however might be a somewhat dire consequence.
LOL I remember when I too as a child "mistakenly" inserted a fork into the socket. Shock of my life (pun definitely intended). But obviously mum was even more shocked than I. To this day I have no idea why I did it. Could it be due to the fact that in "cave dwelling" times it was much simpler. Dangerous items like "fire" and the "family spear/club" were much much more obvious? Think about it, modern conveniences look harmless. maybe even "inviting". The temptation to stick something into a hole is there.
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