How Can I Help You?

We're in a large department store, looking at an expensive pushchair.

W: It's quite simple. You just press the buttons, here and here, and it releases.

I fumble for a few seconds but am surprised how quickly I get the hang of it.

Me: Cool, like a Dyson.... hey, perhaps they interlock.
W: Only if you're planning a streetcleaning service when you're pushing junior around.

Another couple approach and point at us and the pushchair we're inspecting.

Woman: How much is this?
W: Around... (mumbles)
Woman: Sorry...?
W: Five hundred pounds.
Woman: Oh... that's quite a lot.

The woman thinks for a moment. Her husband doesn't want to be in this situation.

Woman: And does this cot come with it? (she points to a cot on the floor, which is not even the same style or colour )
W: No.
Woman: What about this one?
W: No, not that one either.
Woman: And are there many in stock?
W: (pointedly) We don't work here you know.

The woman, surprised, walks away with her husband. I check my shirt for a name badge.

Swords

W and myself visit a local nursery with a view to a place for next year. We're getting in very early as most of the staff seem to think the child has already made an appearance. It's a very nice place and mid way through the visit Jan, the nursery supervisor, starts telling us about the play room we've just entered.

Jan: In this room they can learn different types of skill and fulfil several different criteria: communication, language and literacy; knowledge and understanding of the world; and personal and emotional development.
Me: It's where they play?
Jan: Yes, they learn play here.
W: 'Learn play'?
Me: Can't they just, you know, play?
Jan: Within certain boundaries and, of course, their own development.

She decides not to explain further.

Jan: And the table over there with the numbers, develops problem solving, reasoning and numeracy skills.
W: They learn to count?
Jan: We provide the resources that support one-to-one correspondences, for example, giving each teddy two cups.
Me: Very handy skill. Child! Make mine without sugar.

Everyone stares at me in my early attempt to develop 'Dad humour'.

Jan: There's also a messy play area.

We stare at a young girl gleefully spreading shaving foam across the surface of a table with the help of a nursery assistant. I start to think that growing a beard, at least until the kid is 18, might be a good idea.

Jan: Lots of the kids, bless them, make the areas their own. One little boy wanted a Roman amphitheatre - think he must have been watching Gladiator or something - so we helped make one out of an old box from the supermarket.
Me: Sounds nice.
Jan: It was. He even advised on the decoration. Then, of course, he wanted a sword.

Jan notes our shared glance of 'and you didn't see that one coming?'

Jan: Cardboard only of course. Mind you, we still had to do a risk assessment. It's important they know what they can do with it.
W: We wouldn't want a massacre.
Jan: No! (laughs) So whenever he gets it out we say 'have you done your risk assessment ? You know how to hold it?' And he says 'Yes, I've done the risk assessment'.
Me: Articulate kid.
Jan: It's important that everyone shares the rationale of consistent boundaries and maintains reasonable limits.

That's me told me then.  

We're on the waiting list.

The Eyes Have It

 We're having an idle evening on the couch. 

W: You know I'm going to get much bigger right?
Me: I'm not stupid. Of course. You're pregnant.
W: My boobs have already got a lot bigger.... all my insides are gonna get smushed up
Me: Yeah...
W: Are you listening?
Me: Yeah...
W: Concentrate
Me: I was concentrating... something gets smushed. Boobs? 

W shakes her head, opens up the laptop and starts surfing. 

W: I don't think you really appreciate what's going to happen.

W shows me this animation:

Me: Whoa!
W: Exactly.
Me: Where does it all go?
W: It just gets pushed out of the way. More trips to the toilet. More heartburn.
Me: (the words are not coming...)
W: And that's nothing compared to your eyes...
Me: Eyes?
W: Yeah, they change shape.
Me: Now you're justing having me on.
W: Look it up.
Me: I will.

An hour's surfing later in which I discover that a pregnant woman's sight can change considerably, possibly forever. Contact lense prescriptions have to change... it's a big deal...

Me: I am in awe...

Maternity Tights

We're walking to work.

W: Don't walk so fast.
Me: I'm not. This is my normal pace.
W: Well I can't catch up with you any more. The tights I bought are too big. They keep falling down.

We walk slower.

Me: You could have bought smaller ones.
W: They're special maternity tights.
Me: Really? I thought the usual ones just expanded? That's why they use them in bank robberies.
W: (A look of incredulity) What are you talking about?

We walk a bit slower.

W: I suppose I could just put my pants on over my tights like I used to do at school sometimes.
Me: Did you?
W: Like superman.
Me: Heh! Now that's funny.
W: With a skirt over the top.
Me: I know! Superman. Heh!

I giggle to myself.

Picture This

A colleague of mine is moving desks following a promotion. He is clearing things into a large cardboard box.

Me: Off to play with the big boys eh?
Colin: Yeah, right.

He starts yanking his kids' drawings off the cubicle wall.  

Colin: Look at all this stuff!
I laugh as he stares in wonderment at a round egg-like being on a crumpled sheet of paper. 'Dad' is scrawled underneath. 

Colin: You can laugh mate. This will be you in a couple of years.
Me: I suppose it will. 

I smile inwardly. I like the thought that this will happen. I will be Mr Egg. Mental note: must go to the gym a little more often.