It's a Brooks thing

Those lucky people whose TV time isn't dominated by CBeebies won't be aware of Bing bunny, a toddler rabbit(ish) chap, who hangs out with his dad, Flop, neighbours and cousins doing everyday things. They might draw pictures, have lunch, build a tower out of bricks or similar. Generally something goes wrong: water is spilt on the picture, lunch is dropped on the floor, the tower is knocked over by his baby cousin... and Bing Bunny has to learn a simple but big lesson, summed up at the end and closed with the catchphrase "it's a Bing thing". You're never quite sure where the mundane story is going to take you or what Bing will claim ownership off, from "lunch; it's a Bing thing" to "Carrots; it's a Bing thing" to "Sharing; it's a Bing thing".

Increasingly I've found myself thinking about the randomness of Bing after each trip the boys spend with my folks. It starts innocent and simple enough but I'm never entirely sure where I'm going to end up.

Jump back almost three years, Alby turned up at my parent's house with a very interesting, child friendly book about recycling, based on the life story of a plastic bottle. The visit ended with Alby running around the house, pointing at my mum and shouting "she doesn't even know what polymerisation is" before bursting into hysterical laughter.
Mocking Narna; it's a Brooks thing.

Take another trip down memory lane and I come home to find Alby standing against the wall with an apple on his head shouting: GRAVITY!! EUREKA!!
Newton; it's a Bing thing.

Monkey and Pigsy, slime balls, rabbit poo, rocket blasting and sumo wrestling; it's a Brooks thing.

Jump forward to this week. Albug is playing with his Ninja Turtles, flipping and charging them about the room along to a little script mumbled out between jumps. Out comes the line "Boys are best".  Now, like my male and female peers, I label myself as a feminist. I think people should be identified, driven, valued and respected for their talent, their skills and their passions. Not by their gender. I'm proud that my views are no longer regarded as the views of rolling pin wielding, bra burning, fanatics but are decidedly mainstrsam. (Despite the wishes of my Chinese lecturer I am not the extreme, revolutionary protestor of the past.) So when a line such as "Boys are best" comes out I will challenge him: "excuse me Alby?"
As always, he is quick with his response. "It's just pretend." He goes back to playing, then pauses before piping up with: "anyway mummy, I was being ironic so it's the opposite isn't it".
Ah yes, that's right, my quick witted, fast worded son was taught about irony over breakfast with my dad. Excellent.
Irony, it's a Brooks thing.