Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Stay at Home, Dad

‘You didn’t come back this week!’ said my neighbour, Vanessa, as we queued for coffee in the church hall.

I didn’t feel the need to tell her that my confidence had been knocked a little by the frosty reception I received on my first visit to ‘Rhymetime’. Magnus the librarian was thoroughly welcoming and happily wrote a sticky name label for Jocasta to wear.

Some of the mothers, however, seemed perturbed by the presence of a stay at home Dad. They all seemed to know each other and were clearly such regular attenders that Magnus had pre-prepared badges for their children.

Three of the little girls present were all called Sophia. One mother pointed out that her child’s name was ‘Sofia with an ‘f’'.

I threw myself into proceedings, nonetheless, and sang the rhymes with gusto.

It was halfway through ‘Incey Wincey Spider’ that I thought I caught some non-verbal communication occurring between two of the mothers. Some kind of signal passed between them involving a nod towards me. Both women had younger babies – as well as their Sofia/Sophias. They began to unbutton their cheesecloth blouses and, each with a steely eye on me, started breast-feeding.

I was not put off by this nursing offensive. I carried on singing and making spider
hands. It was at this point that Magnus announced the banana break. His assistant
emerged with a platter of sliced fruit.

The nursing mothers whispered to their Sophia/Sofias that they should hurry and get some fruit as a reward for all their wonderful singing. I wasted no time whispering and shoved Jocasta in the general direction of the fruit.

‘Nana!’ cried my youngest. As she motored towards the platter, she inadvertently winged a Sophia/Sofia and sent her into a bean bag.

I heard at least one gasp from the Sophia/Sofia side of the room and smiled in the general direction of the mothers. 

Mother one reciprocated with an incey wincey smile. Mother two looked past me and switched breasts.

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous1:14 pm

    Oh Lord, you deserve a medal for bravery. That reminds me of some gladly not to be repeated episodes of trying not to let my awkwardness show when in a coven - er, I mean, a parent-toddler group. Carry on though - they'll get used to you.