We are often embarrassed by our children; it is one of the many occupational hazards that are attached to the job of being a parent. Children are notoriously indiscreet and will spill family secrets indiscriminately. There is, for instance, a teacher in Cape Town, Phillipa Warren; who has it on good authority that my husband and I dance rather energetically some Saturday nights and that, on at least one occasion; a wine glass has been kicked over.
Another story that made its way to Phillipa’s ears was the story of how our Chelsea was born. She happily confided to her teacher and class that her mom and dad ‘knitted me with love’ and that ‘when the knitting was long enough, they took it to the midwife and she sewed it all together and made me born’. No amount of protests to Mrs Warren would assure her that Chelsea had never actually seen us ‘knitting’.
Thank you, Phillipa, for providing our child with guidance and foundation, and for providing us with so many laughs. Happy birthday.
You’re a teacher in a million.