The Monk in His Cell

Youngest Son kicked my father over the weekend. But, as Wife has pointed out, the trouble with any punishment that we have been doling out, is that he simply doesn’t GIVE a shit.

So, Wife has taken draconian measures, and stripped his entire room of EVERYTHING – and that means everything: there are no soft toys, no books, no dinosaurs and no books on tape to listen to. In fact, his room now resembles a monk’s cell in its ascetic appearance – and Wife has decided that it will stay that way until Friday.

It appears to be working: Youngest Son emerged from Nursery today and announced with a solemn face: “Mama, I have learned my lesson”, much to the amusement of the other mothers. Only time will tell, but I’ve got no idea what we’re going to do next. A vow of silence and 5a.m. Matins, perhaps.

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Double Wank With Shit Chips

There are, in advertising circles, too many people making a living by holding up a tube of toothpaste and forcing people to consider what it might be were it not, in fact, a tube of toothpaste. What kind of animal would it be? What kind of party would it host? Where would it do its shopping? How would it shapes its pubic hair and so on.

Today, I was trapped in just such a session where we all considered what a well-known cleaning brand would be if it decided to throw in the cleaning towel and re-imagine itself as one of the characters from Classical Greek, Egyptian (or, in a late and surprising bid for what the fuckery) a character in The Iliad or The Odyssey.

We ended up after nine hours (and I felt EVERY ONE) agreeing that it would be EXACTLY WHAT I HAD SAID THREE MONTHS AGO, amid a number of people doing their stroky beard faces. But the point is surely that this is dodging the issue. These things AREN’T Greek gods: if they were, it would be easy – those stories are exciting, deal in extreme emotions and absolutes. It’s only when we face up to, and embrace, the fact that these brands are what they are, and do what they do that we’ll get the right ideas for them, and stop distracting ourselves with pseudo-intellectual masturbatory exercises, such as today’s. It was double wank with shit chips.

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