Me (to my daughter): ‘Noëmi, what are you doing?’
i hear my children talk this morning:
Walter (10): ‘Noëmi, I don’t know what happened, my mobile phone won’t work – can you fix it, please?’
Noëmi (14): ‘Ok, let me see… ready, here you are. It was quite simple – even mama would have been able to fix it. So may I ask you to next time check with her first, and only if there is a real tech problem, come to me?’
‘We’ve just been in the food shop and THEY’VE RUN OUT OF THE MANGO BISCUIT AND THE HEART-SHAPED ICE CUBES!!!’
My daughter’s (14) unerringly accurate sensor for the expected economic depression.
We went out for a drink with our daughter (14), together with her BFF (they don’t have ‘friends’ any more, that’s archaic remains, now they have BFFs, right?), and I managed to take some really good photos. It’s widely known how perfect photo subjects teenagers can be, which issue is deepened by specific circumstances, such as whenever you have more than 1 individual from this very unique age group, and so after this intro you might have found out already that my offspring in this picture is located on the left. I succeeded, however, to take beautiful memories of some total strangers, e.g. look at that nice lady in her perfectly sharp green cardigan..
School yard, long break.
One of the teachers (dragging a sobbing 5-year old along to my daughter):
‘Noëmi, Tim says you have just called him an Exceptionally Wicked Child.’
My daughter (13): ‘Correct.’
Teacher: ‘May I ask you not to call him this name any more? You can see it hurts him a lot, he is crying.’
My daughter: ‘Tim hit my little brother a few minutes ago so hard from behind that Walter is still in pain.
If somebody is an Exceptionally Wicked Child, I think it is fair to call hem an ‘Exceptionally Wicked Child’.’
Teacher: ‘I understand now – still, could you please find another solution?’
My daughter: ‘Well, OK. Since this level of wickedness is really exceptional and does not occur very frequently in our school, in the future I will call him ‘Limited Edition’.’
Our daughter (13) coming home, changing clothes in the hall, meaning dragging her shorts off through her boots.
She (quickly looking at my face while I am watching the heroic struggle):
‘Mom, I know you have difficult moments right now, and I want you to know how proud I am of you that you do not say a word…and that you keep it this way..’
I am watching a TV program about how Roquefort is made. Our son (10) joins in.
He: ‘What are they doing?’
He: ‘Oh, Cheeses Christ!’
We told our daughter (13) she is free to choose a.ny.thing to be the family program for today..
Our daughter (13): ‘Mama, this morning you look sooo young!’
Me (moderately happy for the compliment): ‘It’s maybe because I am not old.’
My husband: ‘I totally agree. Children, please more respect to Master Yoda ….eeehm I mean Mama..’
Me (to my 13-yr-old daughter): ‘Can you remind me, please, what the Dutch verb ‘verwennen’ means? I forgot..’
She: ‘It means e.g. when parents pamper their children, do everything for them..’
Me: ‘Ah, now I start to understand. But ‘pamper/do everything for them’ – you mean in the positive or negative sense?’
She: ‘From whose perspective?’
A regular Sunday evening home – each member of our family communicating in his/her own temper.
Me (exhausted): ‘I’ve been suspecting for a while that our children have inherited some secret Italian genes..’
My husband: ‘I would love to talk to you about it only I cannot hear what you’re saying..’
We have an acquaintance – a kind lady in her 60s, she leads a very sporty life, and cares about her appearance in every respect – of which she is rather proud.
At this moment she is trying to chitchat with our little son.
Sporty Lady (sending an encouraging smile): ‘And, Walter, can you guess how old I am?’
Walter (carefully studying her before giving an answer): ’80?’
Walter is a charmeur.
Me (to my 13-yr-old daughter):
‘Didn’t we agree on that you would be busy with maths this afternoon?’
She: ‘Depends on how you define ‘maths’. I am working on squared paper..’
Always define them accurately.
Our daughter, Noëmi (13), this morning travels to Amsterdam, NL, with her music school class to watch a famous musical. The children need to be delivered to the school bus by 10 o’clock (the meeting place is located 15 min from our home by bike).
Now you need to know that Noëmi is not that nervous type.
9.22 – She has already put on one of her socks
9.28 – And now the other one
9.34 – ..Pardon, it was too early to be so self-confident. True, she has started to put on her other sock – which process was then dramatically interrupted by other Activities of Higher Priority, such as an incoming chat message, the patterns on her socks, remembering a funny story having happened 3.5 years ago, a piece of interesting-shape dust on the ceiling..
9.40 – She finally starts to have breakfast
9.44 – ..No, correction: it’s more accurate to say that ‘she sat down next to her plate’.
I, like some high-ranking military training instructor, give her reminders ranging tone from the ‘soft & friendly’ to the ‘loud & powerful’ in all imaginable styles and genres.
My daughter in the meanwhile is kindly asking about my workplace, how things go there, and is giving me some coaching wherever she feels it imperative. She seems to be ready not only to consume her 2-course breakfast within the remaining 35 seconds, but also to address all issues of her mother’s employer.
9.49 – She starts to brush teeth.
We, parents, encourage her tooth-by-tooth.
9.52 – She gets enthusiastic:
‘Mama, papa, this school trip will be such an exciting experience!!’
My husband (in a somber tone):
’My Dearest Daughter, apart from you for all other family members already your leaving home is rather an exciting experience.’
Ps 1: The label on her T-shirt is a summary of her CV.
Ps 2: From among experiencing the above and reporting about it in my blog, it was the latter one being the more fun.
One evening I am watching TV with the children, snuggling together on the sofa.
Walter (10) (emotionally):
‘Mama, you will always be invited to my birthday party..’
Noëmi (13) (emotionally):
‘Mama, you will always be allowed to use my mobile phone charger..’
My daughter (13) – ‘dressed to the weekly laundry’ she claims..
Our daughter (13) to her young brother:
‘OF COURSE I did not lose it – I just can’t remember momentarily where I put it.
– Noëmi, a Belgian-Hungarian teenager, 2 seconds before leaving to school this morning, patiently explaining to her mama the location of her bike key.
On the way home we see an educative poster on one of the street walls of Antwerp:
‘Dear doggy, please don’t take pee here’.
Our son (10): ‘It is very kind of them that they also think of dogs who can read..’
Our daughter (13): ‘Papa, would you take a photo of me with your mobile phone, so I can see how these trousers look on me?’
My husband: ‘Let me guess: the battery of the mirror is flat again..’
If Saturday, it is table tennis lesson for my daughter.
It’s me biking with her to the training.
Suddenly, on our way, I realise that she is wearing the wrong shoes (black street footwear instead of sporty ones), so I suggest her to play bare footed today (as 2nd best option).
She (studying my outfit): ‘Or, mama, as you are wearing your white sneakers, maybe to simply change shoes for the training..’
Me (patronisingly): ‘Creative idea, Sweetheart, indeed, but of course there is no way our sizes match..’
The photo is taken of me already on the bench.
My husband (during morning preparations): ‘Noëmi, go down please to the living room, but first dress up all by yourself, and then have something for breakfast which is not biscuits, but preferably something healthy.’
Noëmi (13) turning her eyes towards the ceiling in despair): ‘So many unpleasant news, and the day has just started..’
One evening we are returning from the beach.
My children are quarrelling with each other – just like usual: it has been a long day, and they are cold.
But then they realise: we have a blanket with us!
And with this, we have found the basic recipe for world-peace: fewer blankets than freezing angry people.
Things are usually more simple than they might seem.
My daughter (13): ‘Mama, wow, in this outfit you look like a teen!!’
Me: ‘Oh, you are so kind..’
My son (9): ‘What is a ‘teen’?’
My daughter: ‘Somebody, who compared to you, is very, very old ..’
Innovation idea: free Parental Control App.
When you visit huge places where the risk is high that your child may get lost, in order to easily find her back all you need is to install this app which will show you the map of the building with detailed information on the location of the electric outlets.
The 2.0 version of the same app will add the map of the best Public WiFi Hotspots of the same building.
Innovációs javaslat: ingyenes Szülői Felügyeleti app.
My daughter (13) has recently received braces on her teeth.
She could choose between many different colours, finally ending up with a pink set.
The dentist, a lady in her 50s, gave her a big smile and confirmed that she could totally understand the colour choice, being ‘nicely girlish’.
My daughter listened to her politely, eventually remarking:
‘It could be also a reason for my choice.
..But actually, this is the shade of colour that best matches the anti-theft alert app that I installed on my smartphone a while ago, and use as a Wallpaper ever since.’
Never judge a book by its colour – nor a generation Z female by her braces colour.
Noémi (13) a napokban fogszabályzót kapott.
Rengeteg színből választhatott – végül a rózsaszín mellett döntött.
A fogász, egy 50 körüli hölgy, mindezt széles (és hibátlan) mosollyal nyugtázta, és biztosította lányom, hogy teljességgel megérti döntését, mert “a rózsaszín az olyan aranyosan lányos”.
Lányom udvariasan végighallgatta, majd a kedvesen megjegyezte, hogy akár ez is lehetne döntése alapja, bár ő történetesen azért ezt a színt választotta, mivel árnyalatban ez passzol leginkább ahhoz a lopásgátló app-hez, amit a napokban installált, és amit screen-saver azóta is használ az iPhone-ján.
Ne ítélj meg egy könyvet a borítója – egy tinédzser lányt pedig a fogszabályzó színe alapján.
Just seen this photo on the internet.
I asked my family members to interpret the picture:
My older child (13 – a Generation Z teenager..): “The 2 birds are fighting for food!”
Then I asked her little brother (9): “They are sharing food/ feeding each other..”.
Asked myself, a lawyer: “It’s what we call a ‘joint possession’..”
Asked my husband, an engineer: “The fish is too big, the birds are trying to cut it into two.”
Whatever the interpretation is, it would most probably not be the right moment to run a satisfaction survey on the fish, as the client.
My daughter (13): “For my birthday could I have a necklace, please?”
Me: “Sure. Today is Sunday, the shops are closed here in Antwerp, but next week..”
She: “But I know some shops do stay open – around Antwerp Central Station..”
Me: “I see.., what you have in mind is apparently the diamond salons.
Risking that now I probably seem unreasonably difficult in your eyes, still may I ask you darling to limit yourself to jewels that cost less than the double of our mortgage..?”