Who am I?

In the afternoon, in the foyer at the school, a woman with neat black hair and an ironed T-shirt asks did you watch Dr Phil in the way that people used to ask me did you see the news?

0 thoughts on “Who am I?”

  1. Bearing in mind, of course, we might come out with something equally culture-specific. “did you read LP/Pavlov’s cat/Ampersand Duck today?”
    But I guess we might not assume someone we don’t know is up with our particular cultural stream.

  2. All I ever hear people talk about in the schoolyard are their house renovations or the latest bout of headlice/flu. Though I, too, would be scared by Dr Phil, I have to admit that quite possibly the most interesting schoolyard chat I ever had was a series of guilty Monday recaps on the topic of Australian Idol. I would kill to have a deeply interesting schoolyard chat …

  3. True … perhaps not such a great step for continued enjoyment of my son though, intriguing and sometimes tempting as the possibility is. It’s not even so much that I mind trivia. Some trivia that related to my own life and interests would be good. (Though of course the flu and headlice are pretty relevant.) Anything that indicated I had SOMETHING in common with my fellow schoolyarders beyond having a child would be refreshing. This may sound incredibly snobbish – I don’t mean it to be – I have nothing against those people I have nothing in common with. It’s just frustrating to spend years and hours of my life feeling like I’m in high school all over again and thoroughly on the outer. It’s definitely a part of parenthood I didn’t forsee!

  4. So ‘m not the only uncool kid back at high school – comforting. The really frustrating thing is that I have learnt the lesson of high school: that you don’t need to be someone you’re not to fit in, you’ll find people you click with eventually (if not in that place). HOWEVER, if you don’t play the game a bit and try to fit in, your kid doesn’t get invited on play dates or to birthday parties, because it’s the mothers who really organise these things. So there you go again …

    Oh, and re. the headlice, my seven-year-old is getting a buzz-cut this weekend after too many trips to the pharmacy.

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