We’ve found a great new playgroup that’s within walking distance; although I’m not sure we’ll be going back.
For once it was Sonny who took the family shame, and Luca and I who brought it upon him.
Everything was going well until a mother made the mistake of making conversation. Whilst talking about the benefits of a full nights sleep, in my head I said, ‘that’s why you look so fresh and healthy’, but with biscuit in hand (that’s my genuine defence), it came out as “that’s why you look so fresh and tasty” (to be fair, it was a chocolate Hobnob!) It didn’t help that she ran the playgroup … and with her husband.
The songs we sang at the end whilst sat round in a circle then took an impromptu performance from Luca who strolled to the middle, waited until he had everyone’s attention, then crouched down and let out a ridiculously over-dramatic straining noise, before casually wandering back with his dour sulky face on him.
It also didn’t help that when we we’re leaving, another parent warned me that Sonny was eyeing up the plug sockets. When I explained it was OK as I had a spare one here with Luca, I was genuinely only joking, and I did eventually go and move Sonny away, but it was taking me ages to get Luca to sit in his buggy and I didn’t want to waste the little progress I’d already made.
Oh, and I’ve really got to learn that just because I have half-Chinese children doesn’t in any way make me any more Chinese myself. I keep making the irrational assumption that for some reason any Asian parent and I will have loads in common? It doesn’t help that I launch into conversation blindly ignorant to the fact that with the boys off playing, I’m just some random bearded weirdo. It’s frightening to realise that I’m that same man who I desperately try to avoid making eye-contact with on the bus, yet always end up stuck in a conversation with.