Charlotte Philby's Parental Leave: 'She looks funny, but you can't say that,' I tell my daughter
A mother's weekly dispatch from the pre-school frontline
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Your support makes all the difference."SHE LOOKS FUNNY DOESN'T SHE!" the four-year-old barks as we pass a lady in the burger bar at Gatwick airport, who might be Justin Bieber on steroids. "Why does she have a cow on her arm?"
Employing the only tactic available in such situations, I walk faster, pretending to look for someone in the far distance.
As soon as we are safely out of ear-shot, I grab my eldest's arm: "Darling, you mustn't say people look funny – it's terribly rude. You wouldn't like it if someone laughed at you, would you?" She shrugs: "But she looks extremely funny! LOOK!". Smiling widely, I reply, ventriloquist-like: "I know she looks funny, but you can't say that – and anyway it wasn't a cow, it was a bulldog".
My daughter lavishly mouths the word "b-u-l-l-d-o-g" in disbelief as my husband emerges through the crowd wielding the pushchair, several rucksacks sprouting from each side. The toddler peers out from under the rubble, his mouth exploding with drool.
"Did you get the Piriton?" I ask, desperation creeping into my voice. "No," he replies, calmly. "WHY NOT?!" Because, he explains, as soon as he'd requested the hayfever syrup widely favoured by parents of teething babies, one cashier apparently whispered to the other: "WAIT, ASK BOSS, THAT'S THE PAEDO JUICE!".
"Daddy has a tattoo of a building site," the four-year-old continues, impervious as ever, as my husband turns to defend the Transformer circling his bicep. "But did you know," she adds, "the baby only has a tiny willy, and he can't even see it 'cause his belly's so big!"
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