a senior moment…

In our city there are 3 universities so there are inevitably A LOT of students. We are part of a scheme where families 'adopt' a student. The idea being to give them a meal, welcome them and generally act nice towards people new to the city who may be feeling a bit lost.

and yesterday we met one of our 'adoptee' students. OH went off to collect him and when he returned, OH walked in and said 'don't worry he is one of 7 kids!"

We had been wondering a bit how a young 19 year old was going to feel coming to a house full of children who would pepper them with questions and no doubt end up sitting on their knee and asking for a story. 

Apart from a slight incompatability between the hard Belfast accent of our visitor and the soft, whispery semi-scouse accent of our 3 year old (we translated a lot), our visitor fit right in. Obviously at ease with young children, having been 14 when his youngest sibling was born. He was nonplussed by a potty training toddler rolling around on the sofa wearing nothing but a smile and I watched him instinctively put a hand up behind our youngest as she obsessively climbed on and off a chair next to him. 

I was already feeling pretty impressed but then as he went to leave he said goodbye to each of the kids calling them by name…correctly. Which usually takes people a while to remember, particularly with the girls. 

Yes, you can come again. 

Later OH and I were chatting about it and I said 'sort of makes me want to contact his parents and tell them what a wonderful job they have done raising their son'

Its that parenting threshold when you start encountering young adults and wondering what exactly their parents did to make them turn out so nice that you realise that you are officially….

well…old. 

and so we are….apparently.