Kick the Habits

Things I've picked up from Mum & Dad (or why it's not my fault)

Originally published 9 October 2016

When you're a growing young boy like me you're learning new things all the time. When I'm out in the car I learn the names of things by asking the other passengers incessantly what they're called until they give in and shout the answer to me. When I'm at daycare I learn about how to play with others and how to wangle extra lunch by scoffing each course so quickly that the teachers don't think I've actually been served yet.

But the way I learn most of my new things is at home, and specifically from Mum and Dad. There are always new books to read when Dad orders them from the library, so that helps me pick up new words. But it's not all good learning like this. There are a whole range of other less laudable habits that I'm picking up from them. They might not even realise I'm learning and copying them, until I start doing them as well. So basically, none of these are my fault...

In an earlier blog I mentioned that my vocabulary was better than William's; not altogether surprising given his current level is gurgling and dribbling. But my vocabulary doesn't compare with Dad's; shame that most of his are naughty words that I'm starting to pick up. For example, after we've woken up and had a cuddle in bed, Dad will sometimes have a big stretch and say "ah, shit", so naturally I copy him and say the same thing. The repeat it again when Mum comes in later, which normally ends up with a rebuke for Dad.

After that we'll get our morning drinks to have in bed while reading a few of my books; Dad has his coffee and I have my milk. Dad loves his morning coffee so much that following a particularly satisfying mouthful he'll say "ahh, this is the tits" (which I think = "delicious"). Which then means I learn that phrase too and say it myself after a swig of milk. Cue another stern look from Mum in Dad's direction.

Something they're both guilty of, and which I've also picked up, is excessive eating of biccies. The sort of eating where they open a pack, pour them all into a container, then munch on them after dinner, until 10 minutes later someone reaches for the empty container and says "we'll need to add biscuits to the shopping list". So naturally I'm also now in the mindset of wanting biccies after dinner; sometimes I won't even have finished dinner before I'm asking for biccies.

And this one is especially not my fault because the biccies are actually supposed to be mine in the first place. They're an Oliver snack, not a parent snack. If I helped myself to something of theirs, like walked into the kitchen and poured myself a nice gin & tonic, I'm sure they'd not be best impress either. So they've only got themselves to blame for me demanding biccies after meals.

Another bad habit I've picked up is being mean to cats. That's actually another one I learned from Dad, which seems to be where most of the bad habits come from (did Mum actually do her diligence on this guy before they got married?). Dad and I both love cats, but at the same time seem to like torturing them. Come summer time when Dad's unrolling the hose to water the garden you just know one of the cats is going to get soaked. And not just with the gentle setting either - the full-on jet of water one. Suddenly there's a "meow" followed by a ginger streak as a cat goes tearing across the lawn to hide amongst the trees.

All of which goes some way to explaining why I pounce on the cats with such regularity; lying on them when they're trying to eat or forcing myself into their space on a chair when they're trying to sleep. It's probably a sort of tough love type of thing, it's just that in the Hartlands we tend to make it very touch on the cats.

So that's pretty much the case for the defense - blame these things on Mum and Dad, because they started it. And naturally in time-honoured fashion I'll now be doing my best to pass these bad habits onto William...