The content and design of all the pages on this web domain are ©winnie caw 2003
House
Rules
The content and design of all the pages on
this web domain are ©winnie caw 2003
19
March 1996
In accordance with the law of common (i.e. I lay down the law and my sons
commonly ignore me) the following has become the norm in our house:-
1. After years of begging me to get them a dog that they can 'take for long
walks' they have no difficulty ignoring pleading spaniel eyes, on the grounds of
'tiredness'; then they will suddenly volunteer to do a sponsored three-mile run
for charity at short notice.
2. Seeking sanctuary in a hot bath after a hard day, I relax into the bubbles,
to the sound of "I need to do a poo now!" by both boys,
simultaneously. Whoever invented the concept of putting the toilet in the same
room as the bathtub was a sadist.
3. They will agree to honour my Sunday-morning lie-in. They fail to appreciate
that waking me up at 6.30 am to ask for a packet of crisps violates the
agreement in two respects:
a) Breakfast is the first meal of the day and they are well aware that 'crisps'
does not constitute 'breakfast' in any adult's book, and
b) I am too bog-eyed at that hour to argue the toss.
4. Any film I record on video will be taped over before I have had a chance to
watch it. Any film they record will be watched 'into the ground', until I am
sick of the special-effect noises and am getting twitchy about the wear on the
pause/rewind buttons on the VCR.
5. Give them an inch and they will take a mile. When agreeing that they are now
old enough to visit the 'Rec' on their own, I did not envisage sly visits to
friends' houses bordering the park...
[do I love my children? To bits and back again. "Just let me finish
writing this, boys!"]
...while I frantically comb the area searching for them, conjuring up all
manner of gruesome scenarios in my mind.
6. No ball games in the house means just that. This rules includes not seeing
how many indoor walls one can bounce the football off when escorting it to the
understairs cupboard at the end of outdoor play.
7. I would appreciate an explanation of (and, preferably, a cure for) homework
amnesia. Why the sudden return of memory on a Sunday evening when I am - ideally
- legs-up-on-sofa watching the Antiques Roadshow and am informed that they can't
do art/history/geography without immediate assistance?
8. Why the defective hearing when a crazed woman is shouting herself hoarse
calling their name? This phenomenon never occurs when a subject close to their
heart (or stomach) is being discussed; at which time they can hear a pin drop at
twenty yards?
9. For years, I have tried to explain that dirty laundry is easier for me to
find at chair level, at least: not strewn behind and under beds, radiators and
on top of wardrobes. It never ceases to amaze me how far a grubby sock can be
flung.
10. Last but not least - I am an ever-listening (if not always attentive) ear to
my sons. I would like to show the same attention to any person at the other end
of the phone.
In this house, it would appear, a mum on the phone is worth two riots in the
house.