I had an odd moment of transportation to my eleven-year-old self yesterday. My mother sprang it on me that my two nephews are likely to visit us for a few weeks. Nice enough kids, though I barely know them as I don't talk to my sister very much these days (This is my middle sister, not the sister I went to Sparkle with a few weeks ago). By a very complex series of events my friend R is also living at my parents place for a few weeks with her two sons of about the same age, so I expect life could get very interesting in my part of the world for a while.
It's likely that some of the task of keeping the nephews amused will fall to me. So I'm left wondering, what would have made my summer back when I was elevenish? No, don't answer that, I don't think they'd be thrilled by a wardrobe full of frocks. Mostly as I remember my passions were mechanical and electrical at the time, but are they going to be enthralled by a crystal set or taking an old engine to bits as I was? And would a trip to a steam railway do for them what it did for me? Or how about the zoo?
I have a fear of rejection, which is stupid.
Still, at least I'm not going to fall into the trap of trying to be cool just for them. There is little more excruciating than an adult trying to hang wid da Yoof.
I'll ask R for advice from her vast experience as a very able parent. I hope her two and my sister's two get along, I see no reason why not as they're all refreshingly normal youngsters.
Of course, I could seize the opportunity to instill in my nephews the desire for all sorts of Forbidden Fruits. Their mother doesn't approve of computer games, for a start. Or motorcycles.
I can see it's going to be an 'interesting' summer