Other People's Kids

Before having one’s own children, other people’s children tend to be non-entities, unless they happen to be either really annoying or else closely related (and sometimes both). Generally you will go about your life without thinking too much about them. Occasionally you might feel the urge to kick one out of the way or drop by for a slice of birthday cake, but most of the time - unless you make it your job to take care of them - your life will remain undisturbed by runny noses and pouty lips. All that changes when you start having children. Suddenly, children in general will enter your radar and you will start remembering odd things about them like their pets name, the days they attend playgroups and things like food allergies and favorite colors. You will share your biscuits with them on the playground and you will eagerly pass your cell phone to their parents when they forgot theirs. Basically, the minute you are caught up catering to your own lovely offspring you will also bend over backwards to keep their friends happy, because that makes your life a whole lot easier - or so you think. And so you will befriend parents, even when you don’t really have much in common with them and you will invite their children over and do your best to entertain them, even when you don’t particularly care for them either, because not only is it good for junior, but also, their parents might return the favor and host the next play date. I am on my fifteenth year of hosting and catering for other people’s kids. I have seen friends come and go, I had to fix my black leather three seater after one birthday party and I had to replant my hydrangea. Nothing too horrible. There were a few accidents and a couple of close calls, which I could avert in the last minute, but all in all, I have made it through the first sticky years of childhood three times over, and so have all in my care. But I wouldn’t want to do it over again. The truth is, I don’t particularly like other people’s kids usually and I have a sneaking suspicion, no one does. For the time being, however, one ends up doing it and with it how best to negotiate the tricky bits, the insurance claims, the bruises, the little things gone missing. I suppose in the end one always hopes that the good memories will outlast the rotten ones and maybe even, that the kids will in the end form some lasting friendships - real ones, good ones.