Last week, my son had to dress up in a space related costume for his topic at school. I am not very good at that stuff. After a brief chat in between Pokémon Go and some irritating game involving a ball rolling around on the iPhone, we settled on the planet Saturn. Thank the Lord for Amazon and a few clicks later I had ordered a rubber ring – ring of Saturn, an orange tshirt and some fabric pens. Boom. A planet is born. Admittedly, on the day, he just looked like a boy wearing his scruffy trackies, an orange tshirt with some brown squiggles on it and a neon orange swimming pool ring. He loved it. This is why I love him!
The fabric pens had been left abandoned on the table. The smallest child clocked them and then the nagging began. ‘Mummeeeeee, can I draw on something, can I colour in my trousers, pleeeeeeeessssseeeeee, mummy,mummy,mummy, please, can I draw on my clothes’. For the full effect of the campaign, just re-read this about 60 times. Blimey, it’s irritating and mind blowing how a 6 year old can ALWAYS do enough to get exactly what they want. I came up with quite a lot of reasons why she shouldn’t deface her clothing. Eventually, I caved. It was the only way I could get on with all the other shit I was trying to do. So I told her to go and get one of her school tshirts. She reappeared a few minutes later with a white tshirt, white pants and white socks. I heard not one peep for over an hour. She sat at the table scribbling away. For a brief moment the allure of Youtubers opening kinder eggs and My Little Pony or Peppa Pig playing on a loop was redundant.
As you can see, there is a distinct theme here. The rainbow is key. I’m getting strong My Little Pony vibes with a definite nod to naive art. Quite worrying to see that the unicorn in the top left appears to be farting a rainbow. It is literally propelling itself with the magical multi-coloured gas.
The t-shirt received un-solicited plaudits from the siblings. They were impressed and this gave me that warm glowing feeling you get from your children. It went something like this:
Child number 1, ‘that’s really good!’ Child number 2, ‘yeah it’s sick.’
Both children, ‘can we have some ice cream now?’
Listen, it’s enough!
Luckily for my daughter, the next day was wear your own clothes day at school, commonly known as mufti day – don’t ask me, I don’t know what it means. I do know however that it means that we need to bring either jars full of sweets or booze to school to contribute to the Christmas fair tombola. It’s a quid pro quo thing – you have an argument with your kids about what they can wear on a school day, and, oh yes, you also get to have that moment of panic when you realise that you haven’t got anything to take to school for the fair! Not much of a deal to be honest. More like another way to fail dismally at co-ordinating more than one action that is not routine. Luckily for me, I live a few 100 metres from a petrol station, so cut price, chemical filled wine that will surely give you the hangover to end all hangovers found its way to the school (sorry fellow school people, but you know you do it too)!
The youngest child ecstatically and enthusiastically dressed herself (a rare occurrence). From rainbow striped pants, to socks and finally the tshirt displaying the farting unicorn. I had a mixture of emotions: fear that by the end of the weekend all her white items of clothing would be adorned with wobbly rainbow etchings, joy that she didn’t care about what she was wearing, pride that she had created her own unique art and above all, deep, uncontrollable, inexplicable love.