Privilege
I admit it, I’m privileged... and I’ll tell you why.
I regularly take Little H to preschool at 9.00 and collect him at 12.00. It’s just a five minute drive from our village to his house and great fun on the short school walk (run), carefully crossing the road, spinning the cartwheel on our former house (hope the current occupants don’t mind!), twizzling round the pole and sitting in the bus shelter waiting for a bus that won’t come.
Arriving for the return journey, he quickly spots me, shouts “Baba!”, runs and throws himself at me. What an incredible privilege!
- Category: True Stories Told As Fiction
6 comments add one below
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Peter Henderson over 5 years ago
Enjoy, they grow up quick.
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Christopher over 5 years ago
He must be getting pretty big now. I bet he's a handful.
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Mona over 5 years ago
Lovely... 'Baba' as a nickname or Arabic for 'father'?
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Christopher over 5 years ago
Mona, that's what his little grandson calls him.
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Neville Hunt over 5 years ago
Baba was originally coined by my second grandchild as she couldn’t say grandpa. I liked it and so did the other grandkids, so it has stuck. It gives me great pleasure to be addressed/greeted that way Mona. Thanks Mona and Chrsitooher for reading and commenting.
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Mona over 5 years ago
Thank you Christopher and Nevillie aka Baba... it's because I'm Egyptian and speak Arabic of course, so I couldn't help but wonder :)
