Mother – Page 34 – Call Me Mother

The Dolls House

Having ensconced their offspring (more or less suitably), in boarding schools, my parents moved across the country. Through some process, known only to them, they made the decision to leave my brand new, much-prized birthday gift of a dolls house behind. The dolls house was fine – at least, I assume it was. It left, post-haste, with the tenants my parents blessed with the lease of their residence.

I’m not bitter; I mention the incident only as it explains my lifelong weakness for dolls houses. (Would you believe, not a psychotherapist or regression theorist in sight?) My penchant was well-fuelled, decades ago, by visits to the Bethnal Green Museum of Childhood. Latterly though, it has magnified in proportion and taken on a life of its own.

Two weeks ago, decades after my loss, I was offered the opportunity to purchase a dolls house. “It’s large…” I was warned, but somehow although I have long known that “one man’s meat is another man’s poison”, I had never translated that wisdom to “one woman’s ‘large’ is another’s ‘monumental’”. I have made the connection now.

Standing in my dining room – proudly dislodging my light fitting and rendering the space almost unusable – is the dolls house. It is magnificent. It is beyond my wildest dreams. Without doubt, its size is only suitable for location in a minor palace or major manorial house. Still, it is irrefutable proof that a complete and happy childhood is always achievable!

Call Me Mother

Having been coerced, cajoled (and something else beginning with ‘c’) into shopping for shoes and trainers with my offspring, I donned two jumpers, my coat, scarf, gloves, boots – it is January – and my hat. My hat is woollen. My hat is warm. Unfortunately, it is also shapeless and unflattering. But that doesn’t matter, does it?

We conquered shop number 2 (shop number 1 was hopeless) and left, the triumphant purchasers of 2 pairs of boots. Shop 3 beckoned and we responded with a purposeful march and an air of impending victory. My air fizzled somewhat with my son’s announcement that the assistant in the previous establishment – obviously not as bright as he’d seemed – had bidden him farewell with the words, “Tell your nan, ‘Thanks’ and we’ll see you again soon.”

I admit that my face may have been a little puckered and my tone a touch hysterical, as I grabbed the nearest customer – a 6’4”-ish youth – and demanded, “Do I look like his nan? There is only one correct answer.” In great trepidation, the young man (he was certainly no gentleman) whimpered, “Yes” before exiting the building at speed! In a twinkling of an eye, the hat vanished. I completed the expedition frozen-headed, but with dignity restored; despite, I might add, taunts of “Nan!” from my heirs. I blame their father – I often do.

I am certain it is only the remotest of remote possibilities that said shop assistant’s error was not a consequence of my hideous hat. However, just in case – and only just in case, you understand – there was another tiny reason (and no, I am not protesting too much), attaining double figures and leaving school before giving birth is not an aberration; unbelievably, it even used to be recommended!

Disagree, But Don’t Be Disagreeable!

Be the main character of your own life story; don’t attempt to become the star of A.N. Other’s.

It’s a timeworn truism which summarises a point on my list of things which folk simply should not do. Don’t be arrogant.

The dictionary defines “arrogance” as “being haughty and contemptuous of others.”

Unfortunately, many people regard arrogance as akin to confidence and therefore, in varying degrees, desirable. Confidence is a comfortable, well-balanced acceptance of ones self-worth. Arrogance is the denial of another’s worth.

The two are worlds apart. Every living thing has worth (or value) and most of it is utterly immeasurable. True worth cannot be defined by money, status or exchange. It is only through the acceptance of that fact that we are able to co-exist respectfully with others. Without sensitivity, knowledge and acceptance, people descend rapidly into arrogance and, ultimately, megalomania.

Arrogance breeds primitive, uncivilised, unedifying behaviour. The denial of another’s right to an alternative opinion is arrogance. The desire and attempt to bully, badger and bombard another into ones own view is arrogance. Nagging promotion of ones beliefs – even when the motives are projected as being valid – is arrogance.

Have an opinion; hold it firmly and loyally; refine it and declare it eloquently, when appropriate. Still, accept that A.N. Other has an equal right to an opinion – an opposing one.

Be the main character of your own life story; don’t attempt to become the star of A.N. Other’s. Live responsibly with diligence, dignity and distinction. Live your life story confidently, courageously and to the best of your ability; remember, anyone can live badly.