Wednesday, November 10, 2010

let kids be kids

Let kids take risks, who can recall, climbing a tree, starting to fall.
Under a bridge, testing acoustics, racing a friend at riverside pooh sticks.
Eating a worm, catching a frog, peering and poking an old rotten log.
Pinching an apple, your friends wouldn’t tell. Ringing a door bell, running like hell.
Jump off a bridge, walk on a wall, not even thinking perhaps you might fall.

Let kids be kids, give them a bike, remember the joy, what it was like.
You were on your own, you did not know, that guiding hand had just let go,
Remember when you glanced around, you lost momentum, hit the ground,
So what, You needed a plaster, got back up and rode much faster.
Let kids be kids, don’t you see, growing kids need A and E

Let kids be kids, for goodness sake, over protection is a huge mistake
Let them play, act the fool, don’t wrap them up in cotton wool.
Get kids outside breathing fresh air, give them a challenge, teach them to dare.
Remember your childhood, when grazing your knee, left a scar for all to see.
Embracing some danger is bound to cause strife but let’s prepare kids for surprises in life.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Lights, action, it’s Christmas.

Like it or not, Santa Claus is here to stay, every male from the cradle to old age will experience the five ages of Father Christmas;
You are not aware that there is a Father Christmas,
You believe in Father Christmas,
You do not believe in Father Christmas,
You are Father Christmas,
You look like Father Christmas.
Fathers be warned, questions about Santa will be asked, they are designed for no other reason than to catch you out.
Today’s five year olds are savvy, they are not children, they are small adults and we, the more mature species must not melt like quivering jelly fish as the annual onslaught of Christmas questions bombards our feeble imaginations.
Not any more, oh no. Fathers will never again find it necessary to resort to, ‘Ask your Mother’.
The secret is to parry those difficult questions that cut and slice through our intellectual ego, with a shield of techno mumbo jumbo. This Christmas, your small human bean will stand with mouth open, gazing in admiration at your intellectual superiority.
Memorise these questions and answers, then destroy.
‘Dad, why are there so many Santa’s?
‘Clones, son, they are all false Santas. The big boss Santa gives the orders from the North Pole’.
‘Has he got a cell phone’
‘No, son, it’s his whiskers, they are fibre optic receptors.’
‘Dad, how can a jolly fat Santa fit down our chimney?’
‘Flue injections, Son. He injects himself, his cell metabolism shrinks, a bit like the Incredible Hulk only the opposite, and bingo he can slip down every flu.’
‘What if you don’t have a chimney, do you miss out on presents?’
‘No in those cases Santa uses a low tech system, he goes through the door’.
‘Dad, how can Santa’s elves make presents for all the children in the whole wide world?’
‘Robots Son, E.L.F stands for Efficient Life Form. They can make ten Barbie dolls in a split second, a thousand bikes in an hour’.
‘Wow!… Dad, How can Santa get to every house in the whole wide world, in one night?’
‘Warp speed, just like in Star Trek. In fact, like Captain Kirk, when Santa has dropped off the presents he says ’Beam me up Sooty’ and up the chimney he goes.
‘Dad, where does the tooth fairy live?’
‘Go ask your mother!’