Monday, 13 August 2012

Bringing up Boys: Born Survivor

Boy and Ball
There are times you just know that they are born survivors. In fact there are times you actually begin to worry that they are, in fact, rather too good at surviving.
I frequently say that my youngest, Bog Boy, is going to succeed at anything he puts his mind to; the problem is I don’t know quite which side of the law that’s going to be…
He is disarming, charming, cheeky, clever and full of confidence. Chatting to people, be they older, younger, friends or strangers, hold no fear for him. He knows what he wants and when he wants something he really is quite ruthless. He frequently gets want he wants and all with a smile.
He has many gambits in his repertoire but the one that works best is a direct frontal attack. Take the time he cornered an unsuspecting mother in the playground at going home time. She had brought her sons some mini donuts so he could eat them after a hard day at school. Now Bog Boy has a penchant for donuts and he has been wickedly indulged by some of the mothers because he was very cute with his big blue eye, dimples and blonde, blonde, hair but like encouraging dogs at table by feeding them titbits, indulging a child this way can only lead to bad behaviour.
Spotting the donuts Bog Boy trots up to the mother and politely but determinedly states:
Him expectantly: “I like donuts.”
Her absently: “That’s nice...”
Him earnestly: “I like donuts.”
Her slightly confused: “They’re for my son
Him astounded and very round eyed: “What all of them?”
Her apologetically: “Erm, yes.”
Him sensing a chink in her armour: “I like very small donuts.”
Her giving in: “Oh OK well erm just the one…”
Mission accomplished.
IN South Africa while picnicking at Kirstenbosch (a bit like Kew Gardens) he trotted off to play and managed to join another family entirely and garnered all sorts of goodies stating when finally he returned to us that he much preferred their picnic to ours. I had to rush over and apologise profusely but they seemed perfectly relaxed about it.
And he did it yet again at the Olympics yesterday while watching the Women’s Modern Pentathlon, shamelessly taking advantage of the bon homie and good will of the spectators around him.
His father reported back that he secured nuts from a German, ice cream form an Italian and sweets from an American and not one of them seemed remotely upset by his tactics.
As I have said before I only hope that this is not a prelude of things to come as I fear that he might not be on the side of angels…however angelic he seems.


Expat mum said...

He will go far, and not in a pushy way. I remember with my teens - and the very sporty Man-Child (with only an only sister and a mum during the week) would quite often walk to the far end of a park and ask a dad and son if he could join in. Bless.
The Little Guy just sits on the edge of a gathering and starts giving a running commentary; he's so friggin' funny that he is embraced immediately.
I've trained 'em well.

Anonymous said...

That is hysterical! I say good for him! I would totally have given him a donut first go!

janerowena said...

That makes me feel so much better, I still feel very embarrassed and go hot and cold when I recall a Sport's Day at which my then eight year old went round begging for any uneaten picnic food, then proceeded to set up his own shop and tried to sell the items back to the donors!

Tattie Weasle said...

Expat Mum - crikey if it's all in the training what must they think of me as a mum - obviously that I don't feed him enough!!!!
Detroitmom2devonmum - he'd love you forever!
Janerowena - Just brilliant! That boy will go far!!!

Go on you know you want to...


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