I think I am getting old. I have started talking about how I used to walk to school, bare foot through the snow and could only watch the cartoons on Saturday mornings. Clearly the snow is an exaggeration in balmy Brisbane, but the cartoons bit is about right.
There are so many things that my kids do that I would never dreamed of at their age.
- Thrusting their hands under taps in public restrooms completely confident in the knowledge that water will automatically flow. I, on the other hand, spend five minutes trying to figure out how to turn the bloody thing on.
- Considering Stampy Cat an attractive, lucrative and completely acceptable career choice. You can play video games all day and get paid for it? That’s a job? Actually Mummy, if I am going to be on the road to YouTube stardom, can I start now?
- Expecting everything to be a touch screen. And assuming those things that aren’t are clearly broken. I can still remember the look of utter contempt my two year old gave me upon finding out that the TV screen did not respond to his chubby little fingers.
- Belief that money comes from holes in walls. When I explained to my five year old that you earn money by working he replied – “You don’t do that. You just get money from the machine. Can I please have a card to get money from the machine?” A long conversation ensued.
- Access to niche and random current affairs. At the moment the topic of hot debate amongst my five year old and his mates is whether Lionel Messi (soccer player) will be headed to jail for tax fraud.
- Enjoying watching other kids “unbox” toys on YouTube. This is a thing. A huge thing. Apparently it’s fun to watch someone describe the box (in detail) and then describe the contents (in finer detail). I don’t get it.
I told you I was getting old.