One of the really lovely things about running your own business is the fact that, to an extent, you can make your own hours and spend some quality time* with your family when others who work for THE MAN can’t.
So, with this in mind, I’d like to share with you an experience I had last week when I took my 4 year old daughter, Thalia, to her play school:
Picture the scene: A bright sunny morning, a little nip in the air, but the sort of day that makes you glad to be alive. From the moment Thalia left the house, she started to do her usual routine of looking everywhere, running about and asking questions. So. Many. Questions.
“Daddy, why is that leaf on the floor?” (Because it fell there).
“Daddy, what is that man doing?” (He’s sitting in the cab of his digger).
“Daddy, is that a car?” (Yes, Thalia. Yes, so is that one. No, that’s a bus).
“Daddy, can we get a doggy?” (No.)
“Daddy, why can’t we get a doggy?” (Your mummy is allergic, and I don’t want to clear up after one. I have enough of that with you and your sister. And your mummy, come to that.)
“Daddy, why do we have to look both ways when we cross a road?” (So we don’t get hit by a car.)
“Daddy, I really want a doggy. Pleeeeeassssse can we get a doggy?” (No.)
And so on. Anyway, at a certain part of the walk to school, we go down a road that has both houses and those dwellings that are only one storey tall. Thalia finds these inexplicably fascinating.
“Daddy, why are those houses so, um, small?”
“They’re not small, sweetie, they just only have one floor.”
“Well, because some people like houses that only have one floor. They are called Bungalows.”
“No, bungalows. It’s a funny word isn’t it?”
“Do those bungas have any stairs, Daddy?”
“No, sweetie. They only have one floor.”
“Well, as I said, some people like to have everything in their house on the same floor…”
“What, like their toilet and bed and TV and everything?”
“Well, yes. Sometimes older people and people who can’t get up and down stairs live in them.”
“Do those people have legs, Daddy?”
“Um, yeah, most of them I think.”
“Oh. I like bungas. Are those bluebells, Daddy?”
“Looks like it, sweetie. Aren’t they pretty?”
“Yes, daddy. Daddy?”
“Can we get a bunga? And a doggy?”
“Oh. Is that a bunga, Daddy?”
“Does it only have one floor?”
“Does a doggy live there, Daddy?”
“I have no idea, Thalia…”
“Can we get a doggy, Daddy? And some bluebells?”
And so on ad infinitum. I love these moments.
*I’m sorry for using this horrible phrase.