One week has passed since I issued the first Playful 16 challenge – Storytelling with our children.
So did you do a tear-and-tell tale? Or share about your childhood?
Confession: I know I am supposed to be really on-the-ball because I am supposed to be ‘setting a good example’ being the mastermind behind this challenge series. But ha! I was such a cantankerous momma the whole of last week, I had zilch mood for stories with my kids.
But well a week has rolled by and away with it, rolled off some grumpy mess-influenced mood (thanks to my Husband-Of-The-Century for spending his off day cleaning the house!).
And on Monday night, I mustered up the courage to tell the boys about the time when I was about Lee’s age,4.
I lived in a Lim Chu Kang kampong (village), in a zinc-roofed wooden planked house. And this was the story I told them. It was touching to see how both the boys quickly settled down, put off their boisterous jumping-off-bed play to kneel down by the bed and listen to me.
This was how my childhood story sharing session went with my boys:
When I was about 4 years old, I lived in a kampong. I lived with Great Grandma, Porh Tai, in a zinc-roofed house. Grandpa and Grandma had to work and I only saw them on the weekends when Grandpa would take me home on Friday.
It was a big house. There were durian and rambutan trees. We also had chickens that laid eggs.
Lee: Where do the chickens sleep?
I think the chickens slept on some hay (?). But they lived inside wire cages.
At night, I would sleep with Porh Tai and if I needed to pee, I would have to use the chamberpot which is like your red plastic potty, but it is made of metal.
In the morning, Porh Tai will take it outside and pour it away so the man could come and take it away. Some people will buy the poo and pee to use as fertiliser for their plants.
Lee makes a funny face and asks, ” Does the potty have a hole at the bottom?”
No. The chamberpot is like your potty. No hole at the bottom.
Porh Tai had a garden where she planted spider lilies. One afternoon, Porh Tai made me peanut butter sandwiches for snack. I didn’t want to eat it so I took one bite and threw it in the garden. Then I plucked up the spider lilies in the garden.
Porh Tai was so angry that she she started chasing me around the garden with a cane.
Lee’s eyes grew really wide with disbelief and asked,”Why did Porh Tai chase you with a cane, Mummy?”
I was naughty. Porh Tai was angry that I didn’t finish my sandwich and I plucked her flowers.
Lee asked,”Why were you naughty, Mummy?”
Er… I was naughty because I was naughty?
Lee said in a very sagely voice, “I eat up all my peanut butter sandwich. I don’t throw it on the floor.”
( I quickly changed the topic to divert his attention from the why-was-mummy-naughty discussion.)
When Grandpa took me home on Fridays, he would play this game with me on the bus. Want to play it with me?
I showed them the finger and palm game my Dad used to play with me on those long bus rides. It is simple and fun! One opens the palm and tries to catch the other person’s finger when it is placed on the palm. There were a lot of giggles from them as we played it.
Okay! That’s the end of my story. It is time for bed!
Lee never forgets his question. So he asks again, “Why were you naughty , Mummy?”
Lights off! Goodnight , boys!
” Why were you naughty , Mummy?”
Post-Story thoughts: I do wonder if I should have told them a story of my naughtiness. I do hope they aren’t going to rub that in my face when I next berate them for their mischief! But I would like to think that such honesty will help them know somehow that Mummy understands how hard it is to be good. And maybe just maybe they will be inspired to prove to me that they are better and good-er kids than I was! /em>
Would you share your childhood ‘naughty’ stories with your children? If yes, what have you or will you share?