Bin man in the making

Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands."  Anne Frank

Bin day today and so last night I dutifully went around the house emptying all the rubbish bins ready for collection in the morning.  When it came to emptying my bedroom bin I was a bit confused to find a sock in it.  I didn’t remember throwing away the sock, but considering I’ve recently misplaced an avocado I didn’t think too much of it. The next thing I know, I’ve pulled my alarm clock out of the bin in addition to an as yet unopened box of tissues. 

Now I’ve known for quite some time now that Alby is skilled at emptying boxes, baskets and, yes, bins.  It is for that very reason that the bathroom bin now sits on the window ledge and the bin in the study has a new home on top of the piano.  It’s also why the kitchen has been subjected to random child locks on every other cupboard and drawer.  Indeed so impressive is Alby at emptying things that people feel the need to applaud his cleverness – as happened with my friend Mike last week who blurted out “I love you Alby” after Trouble Monkey went from living room to kitchen via the toy box (which he emptied), the box of tissues (which he began to empty), Percy’s water bowl (which he emptied) and the cubbyhole with trays and chopping boards in it (which he emptied). 

What I had totally failed to appreciate (presumably as I’ve very selfishly been focused on putting things away instead of to the wonder that is Alby) is that little Trouble Monkey has also learnt to put things away.  He put away my sock and my alarm clock and my tissues.  Okay he put them in the rubbish, but let’s focus on the important bit here.

It is insanely easy to get hung up on things as a parent.  When we did our NCT classes I was recommended a book called “The Social Baby” and in it there is a photo story (all real) of a dad sticking his tongue out at his son, who is only a few hours old, and the little baby sticking his tongue out in response.

Now, I’ve been sticking my tongue out at Alby for 11 months and it is only in the last few weeks that he was been polite enough to stick his out back at me.  I won’t pretend that over that 11 month period I didn’t wonder why Alby wasn’t willing to show me his lovely pink tongue.  But then he does something like this; he learns for himself.  And he learns despite my efforts – I’m fairly sure that were I of the fanatic Mozart listening, flashcard reciting breed or the peace-loving, Hippy breed, Alby would still be the same.  And my alarm clock would still be in the bin.