Last week I posted a letter of love to a daughter, this is part 2, to a son.
As I said, my friend Kath Rose is taking a different tact with her kids birthdays. Instead of placing importance on material goods, which we know they want, but will love for about 2.5 seconds and then be lusting after the next fad, she is writing them letters love advice, observations and love.
This was what she sent to her adorably quirky son Jack.
Our amazing little man.
May the lens through which you view this world never ever be cracked, broken or tinted; it is perfect.
You are so new, you see every single thing, from an ant to a helicopter for the very first time. This is why you ask so, so many questions, and don’t stop asking. Ever. You are a beautiful, warm little womble, but using the world ‘epic’ to describe the dog’s poohs is not right, they are not epic – epic is a tectonic movement, not a bowel movement. Turning 10 is a big deal, it’s double digits, so stop insisting on showing me just the one digit, I know what your middle finger looks like.
The word chivalry doesn’t mean you are cold. It means to are one hell of a man. Open the door for women; and I don’t mean fling it open and run through first, actually hold it open. Always give up your seat on a bus or a train for an older person, a pregnant lady, a frail person. Its manners. If you ask a girl out on a date, pay for her (and, picking up an angle grinder and grabbing a Bunnings BBQ sausage isn’t a “date”). Don’t be scared to show a bit of dash – the Man Mountain is well versed in dash, and it makes me swoon all the time. Be exceptional.
NO, I did not come to Australia on the convict ships Jack, I am not – contrary to your belief – that old. Always look people in the eye when you speak to them. Always, always be loyal. Loyalty is remembered. Always shake hands when you meet someone.
It’s not a competition to see how quickly your runners fall apart, so please don’t hasten the process manually. You do NOT go to school just to have lunch mate, you go to learn stuff. And, no Bunnings is not the equivalent of the library Jack, no matter what Man Mountain tells you.
Please don’t tell people that Housos is your favourite new show. I love that your favourite song is Convoy. It’s mine too. Your penchant for nudity is awesome, don’t stop – well maybe just judge who you are nude in front of – Matilda at 13 years of age doesn’t appreciate it.
Things always taste better with “another teaspoon of butter”.
I love your gentleness. Shakespeare is not a weapon honey. Stop sneaky feeding Rock, he’s on a diet. Please bend over when you need to throw up. Wipe your bum properly. I applaud you for using the word Tweker in the derogatory sense.
It’s OK to feel scared. But always have a go. You have arms that Popeye would kill for, use them wisely.
You are an amazing nude cook little man, don’t stop. You do not need WD40 in your school bag for emergencies. Say please and thank you. Hug properly. Eat with your fingers…. Oh, hang on, you do most of the time.
Please look after Matilda, I know you see her as a foreign object at the moment, but she’s your sister and one day I know you’ll clear a bar for her.
Your room is not a scientific experiment. Look after people that look sad or lonely at school, they probably are. Your laugh is amazing, use it often. Your dancing is amazing, ditto. Keep making up words to songs, we all do.
Know that Man Mountain and I are watching you every minute of the day. Your love for animals is extraordinary and they love you right back – remember animals are the best judge of character ever. The fridge is not an art gallery; you don’t just open the door and stare in; speaking of art, leaving a liquid work of art on the toilet seat is not something to be proud of.
Above all, know that no other people on the face of this planet will ever love you more. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Love Mummy and Daddy H