I think I was treated to my first Curious Neighbour Child Conversation of the year this afternoon. I don’t think there’s been any prior to today, which had led me to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d grown out of the need to ask questions about everything and anything while you were just casually minding your own business.
I was out in the shed dismantling things that needed to be dismantled, and putting things into buckets to go on their merry way to the tip when I was alerted to the presence of the Curious Neighbour Child by the following cry:
I can see your shed!
He wasn’t wrong. He could see the shed. Because, by its very nature, the shed is quite a visible garden feature. It also acts as a bit of the fence line between the two properties so, unless he was blind, you would hope that he could see it.
He then went on to ask me a series of questions about what I was doing – “I’m taking some things apart”, “Because they are being thrown away”, “Because we don’t want them anymore”. And then he told me that he could see the shed from the big rocks. Which through a series of questions, mainly “What rocks?” I eventually ascertained he meant that if he walked along the wall behind his own shed – basically into our garden – he could also see the shed.
They are heavy, the big rocks.
Again, you can’t fault him. They are heavy. Bloody heavy in some cases.
Does your mum know you’re doing that?
My mum? I wouldn’t expect she does, really. She’s miles away. I didn’t say any of that. I thought the best thing to do was just to humour him and say that yes, my mym did know what I was doing and that it was alright for me to be doing it.
I have a brother, you know.
I know you do, I’ve seen him.
No you haven’t.
Yes, I have. Lots of times. Lots and lots of times.
You’re going to have a big nose!
Why am I going to have a big nose?
Because you are telling lies.
But I have seen your brother.
Ok, I have only seen your brother once.
Where is your mum?
It was at around this point that I realised that the mum he was referring to was Carole. He thought that Carole was my mum.
I’ll be honest, I’ve still not corrected him…