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Post by housesparrow on Oct 14, 2010 15:23:35 GMT
Would you trust a child's powers of observation? More importantly, would you trust their doting granny?
A month or so ago the in-laws invited us to supper. I put on a some gold and ruby earrings Jack bought me for my fiftieth birthday, but during the meal I discovered one of the earring backs on the table cloth. The earring it was meant to be attached to was nowhere to be seen.
Now, it did occur to me that it had fallen off in the car or in Sainsburys, where I'd popped in to buy flowers en route. Neither Jack nor any of the adults could remember whether I was wearing two when I walked in. However both grandchildren (aged 11 and 13) were quite positive that I was. Their grandmother was (as usual) awed by their powers of observation.
I found the earring just now, when sweeping the leaves from the front path. For some reason its back must have clung to my earlobe during the 50 mile drive to Sarf London, a quick dash round the supermarket in High Wycombe, a saunter round in-laws back garden, finally to succumb when I sat down.
I shall of course phone the in-laws to tell them - but will I be able to resist a dig about the grandchildren?
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Post by everso on Oct 15, 2010 17:02:40 GMT
Would you trust a child's powers of observation? More importantly, would you trust their doting granny? A month or so ago the in-laws invited us to supper. I put on a some gold and ruby earrings Jack bought me for my fiftieth birthday, but during the meal I discovered one of the earring backs on the table cloth. The earring it was meant to be attached to was nowhere to be seen. Now, it did occur to me that it had fallen off in the car or in Sainsburys, where I'd popped in to buy flowers en route. Neither Jack nor any of the adults could remember whether I was wearing two when I walked in. However both grandchildren (aged 11 and 13) were quite positive that I was. Their grandmother was (as usual) awed by their powers of observation. I found the earring just now, when sweeping the leaves from the front path. For some reason its back must have clung to my earlobe during the 50 mile drive to Sarf London, a quick dash round the supermarket in High Wycombe, a saunter round in-laws back garden, finally to succumb when I sat down. I shall of course phone the in-laws to tell them - but will I be able to resist a dig about the grandchildren?[/color] Oh Housey! You should have realised that children usually only tell you what they think you want to hear. Never believe a child.
Glad you found your earring!
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Post by housesparrow on Oct 20, 2010 7:07:09 GMT
Yes, I was really over the moon to find it. You are probably right abut children saying what they think you want to hear.
A woman I know - already with five children - has taken on two more, related only distantly via an in-law. They are apparently bein abused, and when a social worker came to call, she explained that she was not allowed to them ask any questions about the allegations, I think for this reason. However, the eldest did mention something during the visit. The poor lady still has these perishing (and badly behaved ) kids, and neither parent has offered her a penny!
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Post by everso on Oct 20, 2010 10:38:50 GMT
Talking of confident kids, after my chocolate brownie juggling incident (in The Kitchen: What are you stuffing in your gob right now) I thought the story might amuse my 3-soon-to-be-4 year old twin grandchildren and when I picked them up from play school yesterday lunchtime I told them what had happened.
Honestly, little kids have no sense of humour whatsoever. Beth just turned round and said "My mummy doesn't do that - she's careful" and Dan countered with "You should have worn an apron".
Tsk!
[waits for Patrick to ask when I'm going to be handing them over to Mr. Grimes for chimney cleaning duties]
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Post by Weyland on Oct 20, 2010 12:22:38 GMT
Honestly, little kids have no sense of humour whatsoever. Beth just turned round and said "My mummy doesn't do that - she's careful" and Dan countered with "You should have worn an apron". Tsk! Perceptive little rascals. The strict rule in my kitchen is that any woman performing cooking duties MUST wear a pinny. Just a pinny. It's a question of elf'n'safety. (Well, OK, perhaps slippers as well.)
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