At the end of a very busy and not particularly enjoyable day of work, I had a playgroup (child-friendly way of saying interview) with a 3 year old who is applying for Pre-Kindergarden at my school. I was not particularly excited to have this on my calendar on a Friday afternoon, especially after the the first two playgroups that I had this morning. The first one had two children, both under the age of 3, who couldn’t answer any question I asked (even, “what is your name?”) and proceeded to run around the room pretending they were airplanes for the entire 45 minute session. The second one was a 3 year old who whined the whole time about seeing his parents and didn’t want to do any of the various activities (aka games) I offered. Needless to say, when I went to meet my last appointment and he refused to talk, or look at me, I was not excited to spend 45 minutes in a room alone with this child.
As we walked into the room, my new friend told me that he saw a slug in our fish tank. Not only was this adorable because what he had actually seen was an eel, but I was completely thrown off my game; this child was from London and had a sick accent! Everyone in my office knows, that if a child has an accent, particularly a British accent, I will pretty much accept the child on the spot. I am seriously a sucker for accents. From that moment, my attitude shifted and the playgroup took a different turn.
My new friend cracked me up throughout the entire playgroup. He didn’t take more than 3 minutes to warm up and we started the session building a house with lincoln logs. He instructed me that I would be the “mummy” and he would be the “daddy” with our little people. We added a swimming pool outside of our house with a lego “jumping board” and a “lounger for sunbathing.” After we finished playing and I asked him to come over to the rug, he asked “shouldn’t we tidy up a bit?” At this point, I felt like busting out in song and dance (a la Mary Poppins).
After “tidying up” we moved to the table and drew some pretty incredible. During this time, my new friend said “let’s work hard together” and reassured me that as long as I tried my best, it didn’t matter if my art work wasn’t as good as his.
Our time together came to a close with an unparalleled performance of his favorite song, “Billy Jean.” If you have never seen a 3 year old singing Michael Jackson, you are missing out. It is moments like these that make my job worthwhile.
At the end of the day, I came to conclusion that my first born child must speak with an English accent. Apart from hiring Mary Poppins as my nanny, I am not sure how I will accomplish this. Thankfully I have plenty of time before I need to figure this out!