Archive for the 'Tech Dad' Category

When I’m 64

Published on 23 March 2006 in Funny, Growing up, Pictures, Tech Dad and Touching. 1 Comment

Funny faceA conversation with one of the girls yesterday shortly after taking the attached photo with my cameraphone.

“I wish I had a phone like that.”
“You don’t need a phone, sweetheart, they’re only for grown-ups.”
“Where did you get it from?”
“From a shop.”
“Did they have another one exactly the same?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well when I’m a mummy can you take me to that shop and show me so I can buy that one?”
“What a terrific idea. Of course I can.”

It’s lovely to think I’ll still be needed. An extra bonus point to the first reader who can correctly identify the twin in question… :-)

Why why why?

Published on 19 June 2005 in Education and Tech Dad. Closed

We were on holiday in Spain recently. We stayed in a static caravan that had a round badge on one side with the holiday company’s logo on it. Anyone who’s ever met a four-year-old will know that every sentence they utter begins with “Why…”, and the sad fact is that the vast majority cannot easily be followed with a sentence beginning “Because…”. (Two examples that spring to mind are “Why is Spain blue?” and “Why has Mummy gone for a wee-wee?”)

Anyway, back to the caravan. Hannah sat outside one day, looking thoughtfully at the holiday company logo, and then asked: “Why has that circle on our caravan got three ‘wuhs’ on it?” - “wuhs”, of course, in the four-year-old phonetic alphabet, being Ws.

Oh happy day. Oh happy father.

Perhaps as recently as six months ago I would have glossed over this question like so many others, judging that the girls were not yet old enough to fathom the complex logistics of a global information network reaching into all of our homes. But now, blinded perhaps by some kind of mad holiday euphoria, I decided to have a stab at it. We started with a tour of the caravan, discovering the mysterious mark of “three wuhs” on items as diverse as Mummy’s book, Daddy’s hat, and the mayonnaise.

“Now then,” I said, sitting them both down. I imagined they must have felt a bit like the bloke in The Matrix when he starts to realise the whole world is not as he had thought. “Do you know what the three wuhs mean?”

Two heads slowly shook, slack-jawed with bewilderment. I savoured the moment then spoke again.

“Well… er… you know when we get CBeebies on the computer?”

Nod. Nod.

“Well… it’s bit like that really. You can get the caravan on the computer. Or Mummy’s book.”

Blankness.

“Well, pictures of them really…”

Outside, a tumbleweed drifted past. It was beginning to dawn on me just what I’d embarked on.

“Can we do CBeebies on the ‘puter now?” asked Lauren.

“No, sweetheart. We haven’t got a computer here, have we?”

Another tense pause.

“But when we get home then?”

“Yes, when we get home, of course we can.”

“And can we see the caravan? And Mummy’s book?”

“Er… well, yes… listen, who wants an ice-cream?”

“ME!!!”

Phew.

The rest of the holiday was spent spotting “three wuhs” on just about everything. I tell you, you just don’t notice how prevalent the bloody things are until you’ve got two small girls spotting each and every one for you, as if they’re rare jewels. And as a result of my excellent tuition, Hannah and Lauren now know two new things: (1) three wuhs are everywhere, and (2) that means everything is a bit like CBeebies, but only when it’s on the computer, not on the telly.

I should hire myself out for private tuition, I really should.

“MY BABY HASN’T GOT FAT EYES!!”

Published on 25 March 2005 in AAARGHH! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!, Double trouble, Funny, Girls will be girls, Maddening and Tech Dad. Closed

Another little faux-innocent needling session is going on as I type, on a par with the “STOP CURTSYING!” incident. They’re mostly mumbling, so my attention was only drawn to it when Hannah shouted angrily, “NO, LAUREN! MY BABY HASN’T GOT FAT EYES!” The conversation went on something like this:

Me: Lauren, stop annoying Hannah.
Hannah: But Daddy, but she said my baby has got fat eyes!
Me: Lauren, just stop that.
Lauren (grumpily): OK. (Back to a sotto voce mumble) She’s got a blue coat, Hannah.
Hannah (mumbling): Yeah, she’s got a blue coat. And red cheeks.
Lauren: And pink lipstick.
Hannah (in delight): Yeah, pink lipstick!
(Pause)
Lauren: And fat eyes.
Hannah: NO LAUREN!! DADDY!! LAUREN SAID MY BABY’S GOT FAT EYES!!!
Me (distractedly): Girls, can you just keep the noise down while I blog all this…

Oh, before you were born

Published on 16 March 2005 in AAARGHH! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!, Funny, Maddening, Tech Dad and Trouble with words. 6 Comments

As a Man of a Certain Age, one of the most significant events for me in recent years was obviously the release of the original Star Wars trilogy on DVD. I was particularly pleased by this cinematic landmark because Hannah and Lauren had, until that point, only seen the new episodes, and I was growing increasingly anxious that they might come to accept them as The Star Wars Films, with the originals seen as some kind of quaint curiosity for old duffers. When I think back to my parents commenting that Tom Baker wasn’t the real Doctor Who, it still seems like a lot of fuss about nothing. But if I just change a few of the words - change it to me, for example, insisting to obliviously shrugging daughters that Ewan McGregor isn’t the real Obi Wan Kenobi - the situation suddenly takes on a horrible gravity, of the kind that could keep me awake at night.

So, it was clear the girls needed to be correctly indoctrinated as soon as possible. Well in advance, I alerted them to the fact that the DVDs would be released shortly, and managed to arouse some kind of passing interest, albeit in the arrival of what they called “a new R2-D2 film”. Clearly there was no time to lose.

On the day the DVDs arrived I came home as early as I could from work and the girls and I sat down, with an appropriate sense of ceremony, in front of the telly. By about half an hour later, any thought of educational progress had been abandoned and I would happily have chewed my own leg off for just a few hours on my own with my DVDs, my memories, and a kitchen foil tube for a light sabre. Here’s what happened.

Go, Mickey Mouse, Go!

Published on 27 February 2005 in Funny and Tech Dad. Closed

We’ve just got a new phone at home. Being the kind of person I am, once I’d set it up I went upstairs with my mobile and rang home to check it could be heard OK from all over the house. I let it ring a few times then hung up, at which point a little voice chimed up from downstairs: “Daddy, the phone was ringing!”

Being the kind of person I am, I of course replied, “What, like this?” and redialled to make it ring again.

“Yes!” called the voice.

“Stop, phone!” I shouted back and, lo and behold, the phone stopped ringing. I redialled again.

“Come on, girls,” I called, “1… 2… 3… stop, phone!” As if by magic, the phone stopped. I just had time to reflect on the fact that nobody had joined in with the “stop, phone!” when the voice called up again.

“Daddy, can you stop that now please?”

Now, I’m not being ungrateful here for the wonderful gift of our two daughters, but it wouldn’t have hurt to show just a bit of amazement, would it? When I were a lad, any kind of technology used to amaze me half to death. Whenever we drove into town, Dad would get the ticket at the entrance to the multi-storey car-park, the barrier would raise, but the car would never move forwards until Simon and I had shouted “Go, Mickey Mouse, Go!” from the back seat. Even now, a father myself and holder of a driving licence for the past 15 years, I’m not 100% sure how that all worked. It was just magic.

I think it’s fair to say the threshold of amazement is falling. If somebody had made the phone ring and stop with the power of their voice when I was 4, I would be worshipping them as a god to this day.