Learner Dad: Do people buy ‘sculptures’ that spell out the word HOME because they’re forgetful?

Picture: iStock 

Certain moments remind you that you’re basically an old man. I was walking the kids to school this morning when I saw my cousin cycling down towards us on the Curragh Road. We go way back, his band played at our wedding, so I waved him down and we had a chat as the rush hour happened around us. It was only when he looked over to say nice things about my kids that I noticed their faces, frozen with anxious grins, wondering who is this guy and when will our torture end? That was my sisters and I some 45 years ago, when my mother would run into someone down town in Kinsale (we called it down town - Kinsale always had notions.) I’d stand there with a frozen grin, while the person we ran into would say: “Is this Patrick, look at the size of him!” 

I’m a restless, selfish person really, I don’t like waiting for other people to finish their chat about the weather or “isn’t it desperate about poor Miriam?”.  I used to get really cross at my mother for doing it to me. And now I’m doing it to my own kids. And they’ll do it to any kids they might have. Because you need all the adult chat you can get with small kids around - there is a limit on the number on the conversations you can have about Minecraft and Dua Lipa. So apologies to my mother for being an eejit 45 years ago.