Yesterday, my boys decided that they are going to grow up to be concrete layers.
All this education and self-sacrifice on my part with visions of doctors and lawyers and architects and Prime-minister in my mind for their future (purely so they can look after me well in my old age), and they want to grow up to be concrete layers.
Well, at least I should have nice outdoor-eating areas, right? And there's always the tennis court.
From 7.30-5.30 yesterday the men were here laying our current outdoor concreted areas. Trucks. Concrete. Tools of the trade. What more could a boy wish for?
School books? Anyone want to do school today?
The silence was deafening. The looks were scathing!
I couldn't do it. I couldn't pull them away from this dream-come-true entertainment. So we forgot about schoolwork for the day.
They were out there all day talking to the men. I did poke my nose out there a few times, because the men were rough-looking, but my oldest son learned from one of them that it's not a good idea to start smoking.
"Don't you ever start smoking" he said to my boy as he lit a cigarette. "You better go away from me now because I'm going to have a ciggy."
Somehow I got conned into making cups of tea and coffee. Tradesmen generally are very friendly. I've only ever come across one that wasn't, and it was the man who did our tiles when we were building.
Teddy made his own concrete alongside of the men, and as a result got very muddy. But I couldn't tear him away.
Two days and we can walk on it. I have to keep the doors locked and take the keys out of them, because knowing my children, being told not to do something is a very tempting offer.
But the concrete looks good. I liked it best when they first smoothed it out, but then they had to go and sponge it up to make it non-slip so that the council will sign it off. Who made that rule up? I like the smooth, slippery look. The libertarian in me says that we should be able to lay concrete the way we want, with no rules. But I guess some dear old civic-minded person in the council one day worried that they might get sued if someone fell over on their smooth concrete and cracked their head, and so we all have to have non-slip concrete. But I digress.
Concrete. It's good. It's neat and tidy. It's a worthy career path.
I Couldn't Do It.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Posted by
southseaislandhome
at
9:12 AM
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3 comments :
aww you just have to let the kids put their hand print, name & date in the concrete. I smile each time I see our kids - they did it 10 years ago.
do you wanna ring & speak to the kids??? Put ideas in their heads???
Too cute - and a big yes to Leanne's suggestion! And that's what homeschooling is all about - having the flexibility to enjoy a real-life moment instead of having your head in books,
What a fun adventure for your kiddies! :-)
Cate
My brother's favorite movie for years was "Road Construction Ahead." He'd get my father to sit with him, both wearing hardhats, and watch the movie about road construction over and over and over.... boys are all the same!
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