Paul Carter says children are just like students, but it would be easier to talk to them if they learned the offside rule.
Kids are great, aren’t they? Aren’t they? Actually, I’m not so sure. I’ve been thinking about the little buggers quite a bit over the past few days, as a friend of mine has recently had a baby. Or at least, his wife has; he’s not a seahorse.
It’s made me realise that, in theory at least, I’m at an age where I could have one of them, which is the most frightening thought I’ve had since I found myself considering the benefits of laminate flooring over carpet. What’s happening to me?
I’ve never really got on with kids. They confuse me, and if you think about it, they’re actually a little bit creepy.
They’re a bit like students – happy to sit in front of mindless television programmes all day, filling their faces with turkey twizzlers and vomiting occasionally.
My problem stems from the fact that I don’t really understand them, apart from the mindless telly and the food and the vomiting.
I’m well down with that. I’ve just never been that comfortable holding a conversation with someone who doesn’t know the offside rule.
One said hello to me today. Perfectly nice and politely. I ignored him and then felt guilty. I don’t know if he was hurt or not because I ran away like a coward.
I haven’t got anything in common with kids, apart from the fact that some of them are the same height as me, which in this case isn’t really a positive and is not really a good basis on which to forge any form of camaraderie.
Despite all this, kids tend to like me, which is annoying. A bit like midges. Some kids don’t, though, and the ones who don’t tend to find me abjectly terrifying, and run away screaming and hollering like I’m the walking incarnation of Voldemort. That’s always quite amusing, and makes up for it a bit.
I got called “mini-man” by a small child the other day, which was a good one. A new one for the list. (I’ve not got an actual list, though come to think of it, I might start one.) Most things I’ve heard before (they’re not very imaginative), but I was informed totally straight-faced that I “looked like a teddy bear” one day. I thanked him for his honesty and sent on him his way. I hope he meant a nice teddy bear, though, not something like Bungle from Rainbow. That wouldn’t be good. God, I hope I don’t look like Bungle from Rainbow.
The great thing is, though, it’s never meant with any malice, unless I’m just horribly ignorant. Kids are honest and tend to say what they see. It’s their parents’ reactions that are often the most interesting thing, but I’ll save that for another day; these columns don’t write themselves, you know.
I’m off to try and defeat a boy wizard. Next time, Potter, next time…