How come some things should be kept in the home?

On Saturday, when my friend arrived for a weekend visit, I foolishly told him that he could purchase a sandwich in town. This didn't seem like an unreasonable ambition in a big town like ours. However, after rejecting various venues (too crowded, too cakey, too flimsy/too main meal'y, no food at all'y), I panicked and suggested what I admitted was a vaguely average tea room. But at least, I hoped, he could get a much needed sandwich there. As we waited to be seated, I again re-iterated the average nature of the establishment. Sitting down at the tables, I realised how dowdy the decor was: Walls painted in what I can only describe as grotty, frumpy 1980s pink were displaying decidedly odd cat paintings: One depicted a couple, standing on their hind legs, about to get married. "That cat looks terrified", remarked my friend. I really felt that he looked proud, but then again, I am no expert in cat expressions. Another painting depicted a mother cat, still on her hind legs, cradling her twin kittens. We couldn't decide which was worse: Painting these wretched pictures, buying them or displaying them, and felt concerned about everyone involved in the process. Meanwhile, the table was covered in an old floral tablecloth, on top of which was a cream platic sheet. Why shops decide that this is a good look is beyond me. Not deterred by these minor decorating sins, the menu, while laminated, still attempted to project a touch of class by mentioning the word "vintage".  The  classy attempt was carried on in another leaflet which suggested that you may want to buy a souvenir to remind you of your teashop experience, in the form of some vintage plates. These were "displayed" in a small cardboard box next to the till at the front. 

While I have nothing against plates from charity shops, It does seem rather cheeky to buy them, display them in such a lazy manner and then expect people to pay, say £2 for a large plate. If our goodies had been served in vintage porcelain, I could at least see the logic, but everything was served in cheap, plain white, rippled porcelain, reminiscent of canteens up and down the country. Anyway, I digress. Back at the table, we were studying our menu. A group of teas were under the heading "made from teabags". "I am not sure whether that is a boast or a disclaimer", I muttered. There was also a bewildering option to purchase "boiling water - without tea, coffee..." and something else. I suppose you had to buy this separately, because their teas were actually quite cheap. 

After much eating, drinking and chatting, I decided to go to the toilet. Luckily, there was one toilet for men and one for the ladies. I say luckily, because as I sat down, I realised that I appeared to have a rather explosive stomach. After finishing, I noticed the sound of rustling outside. Oh no, please don't let it be a lady, who will undoubtedly faint if she comes in here. When I nervously opened the door, hoping to find either a man, or better, no-one there, I was devastated to discover the female teashop owner waiting outside. All I could do was walk past, then hurriedly pay and run.....some things are definitely best left at home. And what did my friend comsume in there? Did he buy one of their sandwiches? No, he plumped for fruit scone with clotted cream and jam. That and some hot chocolate with cream.

How come big birds are only fun in Sesame Street?

As I was wiping squashed bits of egg from the tent floor, I was wondering whether camping was really the best idea we had had this year. Our normally fairly calm and occasionally sensible children, apparently thought camping was short hand for "run around screaming and giggling". As for the egg bits - how did they always manage to spill all their food everywhere? Worse, as showering at the camp site cost 20p for 4 minutes, I was going to have to severely downgrade my normal shower routine: Goodbye groomed goddess (at least let me dream) - hello hairy yeti! As we had 4 shower cubicles between about 60 people, we were going to have to shower in the evenings in a, perhaps vain, attempt to avoid the morning rush. As it was fairly chilly, I was definitely not moisturising either, so I couldn't even feel good about myself - apart from the smug warm glow of giving our girls an exciting holiday of course, ahem.....At least we remembered the towels this time. 2 years ago, we resorted to using my linen skirt. Something like that will quickly wipe the smug smile off anybody's face.

While we were eating our first meal in the tent, I suddenly realised there was a smell of poo nearby. When I asked why, our eldest daughter rather worryingly informed us that she needed the toilet. This was quickly followed by her saying she didn't need it any more. If you know of any finishing schools still in existence, I should be grateful if you could pass their details on to us - I think we could do with one. As for the smell, we chose to ignore it and it disappeared. Luckily.  

Although I have my doubts about camping, our eldest daughter nearly convinced me, simply by saying how excited she was to be in a lovely warm, cosy bed and how it is nice being with your friends, but cosier being with your family. Incidentally, using the word cosy here may be due to her being half Danish. As any Dane will tell you, they will use the word cosy in almost any context (I am excluding myself slightly here, as I do not say it as often as my countrymen, but it means having a lovely time with family and friends). 

Anyway, I digress. So, I was almost sold on the whole concept of camping, but was still unimpressed by the fact that going to the toilet and showering requires an, albeit minor, walk. Why can't we have a camper van? Probably because you would have to go on holiday for about 3 weeks every year for 9 years before it has paid for itself, that is why. Speaking of money, in order to save ours, I forced the family to eat a delicious packed lunch, minus the burnt quinoa, which was generally considered unfit for human consumption. Of course, by the time we found the beach and sat down, it was raining....again. On top of that, vicious sea gulls were circling the crowds. "Don't be stupid', I heard one rather unsympathetic mother tell her child, "they won't bite you. You haven't got any food." This didn't bode well, as we were obviously laden with the stuff. Laughing in the face of danger, we settled down on a wall by the beach. Well, at least, my husband and I were laughing. The children were nervous - possibly influenced by an unfortunate encounter with several greedy and intimidating geese a few days earlier (note to self: Next time your friend suggests feeding the geese in the park, just say no). Back at the beach, I was laughing at the stress of it all and said how this just added an element of danger to lunch. No sooner had I said this, than a seagull plumped onto my head, prompting me to scream and drop my precious almond butter sandwich. The gull flew off but my sandwich had disappeared. The girls were of course more nervous than ever now, with the youngest manically squeezing her sandwich to death and panicking about us not letting her put it back in the plastic box. Meanwhile, I kept wondering out loud where my sandwich was. Just then, our eldest daughter jumped down from the wall and said she had found some bread on the pebbles. "That's my sandwich!" I exclaimed, triumphantly. "I just stepped on it." she replied. Ah. We left it there. Of course, as soon as we left, some damned seagull swooped in. I hope he has an almond butter allergy, I muttered angrily. "What a great idea to bring a packed lunch", my husband offered, sounding unnecessarily bitter. We finished our lunch further into town, away from the gulls, but unfortunately close to our youngest daughter's other great fear: Dogs. Still, at least we got to eat in peace, once we had balanced the food, water bottles and newly bought bucket and spades. The seagull incident was the most fun I had had all day :o  Later on, sitting in a bar by the beach, my husband tried to allay my fears of being cold if we chose outdoor seats, by saying we would be fine, to which our youngest daughter retorted "unless a seagull pecks my ear."

How come driving is such a challenge?

I will let you in on a little secret: It took me about 70 lessons before I finally passed my driving test - on the 3rd attempt. You might think that 70 lessons isn't that embarassing - but what if I told you that these were all in automatic cars? 

Clearly, I am not a brilliant driver, not even a great one. I am, however, a perfectly average driver, if your average driver finds parked vehicles and bollards particularly challenging. Although I passed my test in 1996, I hardly drove at all until 2012. During my 2.5 years of driving, I have managed to hit 3 parked cars and 2 bollards. Both the bollards and one of the cars were in the same supermarket. One bollard started swaying alarmingly, though in my defence, it wasn't actually secured to the ground in the first place. I dutifully confessed to the guy whose job it was to assess the damage (there was none), and added that my long-suffering husband had explained, through gritted teeth, that I do not need to get quite that close to the pavement every time I park. "You are just a considerate driver" he offered kindly - implying that I was merely leaving plenty of room for others behind me.

Hitting other vehicles is less considerate. The most mortifying incident happened in the same supermarket: My daughter and I were discussing how a local paper had written about an elderly lady ploughing into the shop's windows a few weeks earlier. We both felt sorry for the poor woman, whose bad driving had been reported for all to read. We then got in the car and I started reversing. At this point, I really should have checked my rear-view mirror. As I did not, however, the scraping sound took me by surprise. Prompted by this, I finally checked the mirror and saw, to my horror, a lovely little scooter being pushed along by our burly car. As I stopped and got out, several employees came running towards us. They had spotted the accident because I had been considerate enough to do it right in front of the massive café windows, for everyone to see. Although there was no damage, I have noticed that the scooter owner, rather wisely, parks on the pavement now.

As we drove off, my daughter piped up: "Everyone in the café was looking. It was really embarrassing". I had suspected as much, which is why I had carefully avoided looking over. "Will we be in the news now?", she carried on. "No", I said, glumly. "How do you know?" "Because we haven't caused any damage". I didn't mention my bruised ego - this wasn't a good time to discuss self-esteem with a 6 year old.

A few months later, I was leaving my friend's house at midnight. This time, I was suitably alert. "No", I thought to myself, "I'm not going to hit the car in front of me, I am no fool." Which is why I successfully reversed (I always worry I will confuse "drive" with "reverse"), started turning confidently in the road, and then drove into the neighbour's car opposite. Ah. 

I panicked and ran back inside my friend's house. As we couldn't talk to the owner straight away, we went outside to assess the car ourselves. "It doesn't look like there is any bad damage", she said soothingly, carefully touching the rear light I had just hit. At this, half the light fell out. It turned out, that I had also scratched the bumper. While it did cost me money, at least the owner was kind and understanding - just like my friends: After a few years' practice, I can now drive past them and wave simultaneously, without veering dangerously towards them. A fact I am sure they are very grateful for...

How come parents need to man up?

Well, excuse the expression. There is a great deal of debate about whether it is harmful for children to spend such a long time in front of the screen as many indeed do. Some parents are concerned that their offspring seem addicted to the things, and refuse to, say, go outside in the fresh air for a walk. While some parents do resort to banning the offending items on certain days or at certain times, I can't help but wonder why on earth they allow the situation to get so bad in the first place. Have they forgotten that they are the parents and their children are, erm, the child? Why do some parents seem to let their children dictate to them? 

Children need parents to act like parents by setting boundaries and telling them whenever they are behaving badly. While you may mistakenly think that your child will become your friend and thank you in years to come for your weak boundaries and disclipline, they will not. Neither will their friends. If they have any. If you do not teach your child how to behave like a decent human being, by telling them whenever they are being rude and inconsiderate, how do you think they will learn? Perhaps you plan to teach them later on, after years of allowing them to do things whenever it suits them. 

No, if you let your child rule the house, you are teaching them that their needs are far more important than those of other people. Furthermore, you are making them feel unsafe, because a child needs you to show them what is, and what is not, acceptable behaviour. Often, a child will try to test your boundaries and rules. If they meet only weak and inconsistent resistance, they will keep pushing, in the subconscious hope that their parent will show them the way, by telling them to stop doing whatever it is.

Parents also need to impose a stronger discipline because children are just that - children. Consequently, they are obviously not as capable of making decisions about their future as the parent (hopefully) is. Thus the parent can decide that the child should not be spending 3 hours a day playing a computer game because they will ultimately be happier if they spend more time playing something more interactive with their friends, which allows their imagination to develop. Equally, you can decide to teach the child how to eat healthily by making sure you offer them foods you are happy for them to eat. In everyday life, many children refuse to wear certain items, even things that keep them warm. If the parent refuses to let the child leave the house, the child will soon learn to dress properly. These are decisions that need to be taken by the parent, not the child. Do not let your child tell you what to do. Giving in will obviously avoid a conflict that day, but merely by postponing it and teaching your child to dominate you. You are not equals, and you will not become equals by giving in. 

For those parents worried about their children's huge amount of screen time, whether it be TV, computers or game playing, I would simply advise them to act like a parent, rather than a simpering friend, and just tell the children how long they are or are not allowed to spend doing it. If they do not adhere to this, I would confiscate the damn things for a week. At least. 

Honestly, why do we think that giving in to our children, against our better judgment, is a good idea? You are teaching your child that if they keep whining, they will get their own way, and that other people's needs are always far less important than their own. Charming. What kind of future are you making for them? Would you want to work with, live with or love an adult like that? Do you think others will want to?

How come free speech comes with responsibility?

As you are probably aware, there were some terrible shootings in Paris yesterday, when masked gunmen stormed the offices of satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo, killing 12 people,including some police officers. The reason given for the killings was offensive comic strips. The last comic was of an Islamic state militant group leader, but may have been published too late to influence the attacks. The picture was carrying on an Islamic theme, however, where the previous picture showed Muslim extremists saying they had not yet attacked France but that they still had time to do so before the end of January. I absolutely agree that the shootings were horrific and should never have happened. No human being has the right to hurt another, unless they are directly trying to kill you, of course. However, I am concerned that state leaders, the press and many others view this purely as an attack on freedom, democracy and freedom of speech. 

While I agree that freedom of speech is a very important and highly treasured aspect of our, so-called, democracy, I do not understand why this term is mainly bandied about when the press offend people. Why must freedom of speech mean the right to say whatever we want, about whoever we want? BBC.co.uk explains that the editor of Charlie Hebdo, Stephane Charbonnier, had lived with death threats and the offices had been destroyed in a firebomb attack in 2011, the day after the magazine had named the prophet Muhammad as its next editor in chief. Charbonnier told the Associated Press in 2012 that "Muhammad isn't sacred to me". This is my point exactly: Muhammad may not be sacred or important to him, but why does that give him the right to upset others? He felt that a minority of Muslims was making life difficult for others, and so he wished to make life difficult for them. 

We must surely use our freedom of speech with some thought and care. Since when is speaking your mind, whatever the consequences, seen as more important than carefully mulling things over, before you speak, having carefully considered the consequences on your fellow human beings? Being able to satirically make fun of and criticise people's contradiction, hypocrisy and inefficiency is an essential aspect of living in a free country, and of holding those in power even slightly accountable. This would be the case with the last Charlie Hebdo comic strip before the attacks. However, why is it important that we are legally allowed to hurt people's feelings because you disagree with their religion, or even, on a more mundane level, because you think they have gained weight and have exposed their cellulite on the beach? Why is free speech valued above decency and empathy? It is very easy to defend free speech when you are not emotionally involved, but if somebody published a cartoon depicting your relative, or your God in what you deemed a disrespectful way, would you defend the cartoonist's right to publish it? While comic strips can be a great way of quickly getting a point across to people who are too busy to read long articles (or who, like me, perhaps prioritise their time differently), they are not suited to serious, in-depth discussions, obviously. They therefore often appear crude and rude, which means they are not really the best medium for religious discussions. 

I was partly touched and partly puzzled by the reports of streams of images on Twitter and in the paper, of the words "Je suis Charlie" (I am Charlie). I understand the knee jerk reaction of showing the gunmen that you cannot kill free speech, and that lots of others also have the right to say what they want to say. But have people really thought about what message they are also passing on, when they write or pass on the "Je suis Charlie" image? What it basically means is, that they too think you should be able to write anything about anybody. Of course you should, but does that mean it is always the right thing to do? If you are exposing hypocrisy and bad management, then yes. If you are merely venting your frustration and anger by offending people's religion, then no. According to www.bbc.co.uk, David Cameron has stated that in a free society, "people have to be free to offend each other."  I do agree, but still question why nobody seems to wonder whether offending people is really very nice. While I hope the magazine carries on, I would just like to see more empathy and sensitivity generally in the press, towards everybody. 

Most people, in their daily lives, would never dream of telling their friends, acquaintances and relatives every little thought they have about them, and thank goodness for that. Would we like to be told every time our hair looked bad, or whenever we looked fatter or tired? How would we feel if our choices of partner, house, music, children's names, religion were scrutinised and criticised by our loved ones? Would we happily go to bed, thinking how lucky we were to live in a country with free speech? Probably not. Most people only believe in free speech if it does not affect themselves. Some people love giving their opinion, whether it is wanted or not, whenever possible, without much thought for the effect their words have on other people. While it is wonderful that we have free speech, we have a duty to treat each other kindly and to, occasionally, apply an internal filter to avoid unnecessarily hurting people's feelings. I think we all know someone we would like to filter at times, because sometimes, silence is golden. As Dr. PaulTaylor, senior lecturer in culture and communications at Leeds University said on Jeremy Vine's show on 8/1/15: "just because you can say something, doesn't mean you should."