5 Lessons I've Learned From My Parents

5 Things I’ve Learned From My Parents

I’ve followed Actually Mummy on this one and joined in Kate Takes 5's Listography.  What a lot of fun thinking about the lessons I’ve learned from Mummy and Daddy!  There are some things I’ve learned that won’t be relevant for ages yet, like I don’t want Daddy dancing at my wedding, and that I don’t want to see Mummy dancing again, ever, but the ones I’ve picked could be handy things to know.

“P*ss Poor Planning Leads To P*ss Poor Performance”

Put another way, “Fail to plan and plan to fail.”  The 6Ps is pretty much Daddy’s mantra.  I can tell when he and Mummy have planned and when they haven’t.   Either one of them on their own is pretty reliable, unless they’re sleep deprived (see below) but trying to get the three of us out the door, on time, with everything we need, is a virtual impossibility because they don’t communicate.  Each one assumes the other has done things or packed bits and they don’t check until it’s too late to meet our deadline, or worse still, we’re half way to our destination, and then Daddy complains and gives us the lecture about the Ps.  Again.  Proper Prior Planning Leads To Perfect Performance.

Sleep Deprivation is a form of torture

I don’t even bother asking them if they want to play during the night any more.  It’s just not worth it.  One or other of them used to shuffle in, fumble about in the cot for my dummy, shove it back in my mouth, then shuffle out again.  Not so much as a, “No, thank you, CB, I don’t want to row your boat.  Nor do I want to sort farmyard shapes.  Maybe in 5 hours time when we get up for breakfast.”  Nothing.  I shout out every now and then, just to check they’re both still alive.  It’s important to know they could react in an emergency.  They’re deprived of sleep, but it’s torture for me in the morning having to wait to play while they get the coffee inside themselves!

There is no such thing as the Kitchen Fairy

I’m a messy little monkey, I’ll admit.  I throw food around the kitchen, I smear mud into my clothes, and my favourite medium for expressing my artistic brilliance is jam and carpet.  I began to notice that every night, leaving my trail of destruction as I tried to flood the bathroom from within my bath, it never looked quite the same in the morning.  Each day seems to be ‘reset’ and I have clean clothes and crockery.  I used to think it was a bunch of fairies coming in overnight, then I saw Mummy putting my clothes into a white cupboard in the corner and when she opened the door again, all the mud and dog hair was gone.   There’s another one beside it that cleans dirty dishes.   So it’s not fairies, it’s magic!

Manners don’t cost anything

This isn’t quite true, but it’s a nice sentiment.  Mummy believes it’s wrong to go to someone’s house empty-handed.  If you’re just popping by, it’s ok, but if you’re going for a meal, you must take something for your host – flowers, chocolates, we sometimes just take eggs from our chickens. It needn’t be fancy but the gesture acknowledges their effort.  She insists on writing thank-you letters, too.  We made cards for my birthday present Thank Yous. “Manners don’t cost anything, CB.”  No, but the stamp does!  Ha ha!

A mother’s love is unconditional

I’ll end on a soppy, sentimental one.  I know Daddy loves me too, but Mummy has put up with a lot.  I’ve ruined all her clothes, I’ve destroyed her jewellery, I’ve pulled her hair and gouged her eyes – all things no-one else would get away with – but then I give her a grin and a cuddle and she melts into a big, gooey mess.  She loves me anyway and she tells me every day.  It’s reassuring to know.

CB