When You must be mad was young, the nearest park involved a fifteen minute walk and crossing a very busy road with no traffic island. The nearest open space was actually the local cemetery, which was why You must be mad grew up with a finely tuned sense of mortality and a collection of green gravel.
Cut to today, and Little G lives two minutes away from vast expanses of lovely green park with a lake, swings and tennis courts. It is our favourite go-to place. The park clientele varies depending on the time of day. If we make an early morning swing run, we tend to see lots of dog walkers, or people using the park as a cut-through to the station.
From mid-morning, the park fills up with tourists (it is adjacent to the Cathedral) and mums with frazzled faces walking their babies to sleep. From three onwards, the park is taken over by children and teenagers enjoying their freedom from the constraints of learning.
Afternoon also brings the ice-cream van.
Now,You must be mad has issued strict instructions about the non-offering of cake and other sweet stuff, so when the recent heatwave lures me into rashly buying myself a dark chocolate Magnum, I have it all planned out. As soon as Little G begins eyeing up the ice cream, I offer her the standard rice cake.
She gives it a withering look, drops it over the side of the buggy and points at the Magnum. I peel off the shiny paper and give it to her to play with. She drops it over the side of the buggy and points at the Magnum. So reluctantly, and telling her it isn't really allowed, I scrape off the tiniest bit of dark chocolate and hand it over.
What happens next completely negates the theory that the sum of its parts is not greater than the whole. Within a nano-second, Little G has chocolate all over her face, all over her hands and in her hair. Also on her 'Everything's Better At Grandma's' top that I like to dress her in for publicity purposes.
I remind myself that one cannot swear in front of a baby. Under the chocolate, Little G's face is a study in blissful contentment. I gulp down the Magnum in record time and we head back for a change of clothes and a wipedown with a warm flannel.
To be continued ... .....
Oh yes, memories, with my daughters, of making sure the baby was asleep before buying myself a doughnut ... but somehow that's impossible with grandchildren. They seem to have a sixth sense, as if our need for something sugary is synchronised!
ReplyDeleteI know..uncanny isn't it!!
DeleteGrandma Hedges, you can't eat an ice cream in front of a child and then try and palm them off with a rice cake! They get wise to that almost immediately! It's the 'Mmm!' noise you make whilst scoffing it which gives them a heads up :-D
ReplyDeleteI must be a terrible grandma. I have a sweet cupboard stash and a handbag full of treats. My little one and I have an understanding. Mind you, it was good enough for my own wonderful grandmother and I do like a bit of tradition ;-)
Hahaha ,,,, oh, I will have the same arrangement...shortly...BH says his grandma was a big distributor of forbidden goodies!
DeleteAh good! Part of the fun of being a grandma ;-)
Deletewhat I did find ''annoying''was being there on Sun to help mind while they were painting, & Little G was allowed to play with the TV remote! I was told she wasn't to touch it! Ah well.
DeleteNew parents often start out with big ideas...then reality hits *smiles*
DeleteI love reading about your experiences with Little G, so many memories for me. I still think you deserve a medal, for when they tell you it gets better, they're wrong. It just gets 'different!'
ReplyDeleteI think you are right!
DeleteIsn't that just so true? It doesn't matter how well trained babies are in healthy stuff, they unerringly like what's bad for them and always make sure there's evidence to show that whoever is responsible is well and truly up to their necks in guilt. Lovely post, CarolStar! X
ReplyDeleteWhen my first child was born, I was a committed vegetarian. Processed foods were never to pass her little lips. One day we were shopping the farmers market with the grandparents, and it started to pour. So they took her into a nearby enclosed mall while I finished. I came in clutching the bags of veggies to find her in McDonalds being fed an "ice cream" cone. By the look on her face, it was her first religious experience. She couldn't talk yet, but if she did, I think she'd have said, "THIS was out there, and you've been feeding me pureed yams?"
ReplyDeletethey do have an uncanny way of KNOWING that there is chocolate in the world ....
DeleteI can remember stripping mine down to their nappies when they were about to launch themselves into anything with a chocolate type of consistency. It was then straight in the bath. The worst was spaghetti bolognese.
ReplyDelete