Lessons from my kids #3: Try Again.

Lessons from my kids #3: Try Again.

Fear not, dear reader. This lesson is not about what you think it’s about.

I’m not going to fling a bowl of warm, semi-regurgitated apple puree at you and weepily recount the profoundly goopy wisdom that dawned on me as little Starman managed to spoon slop into his mouth, as opposed to his ear, after trying and then trying yet again.

Stuff that. No! This lesson is about respect. R.E.S.P.E.C.T Sockittome. Sockittome. Sockittome. Sockittome. Sockittome. Sockittome. Sockittome. Sockittome. RESPECT!

The smalls in our house have a propensity to demand things. “DAAAAAD! I WANT [insert anything here from food products, bedding, odd socks, sugar, bottom wiped]!”

I take this kind of demand as an affront to my deepest and most gentile sensibilities. Let’s face it, people are hell. Living with other people is madness. Communicating with them whilst not tipsy is very difficult. And so manners, a simple please or thank you, are so very important.

Previously I’d respond to these demands with some weak supplicating nonsense; “Little Lord MacKellar, could you please reconsider that request, think about how we treat each other as a family and rephrase? We’re meant to work together, to support each other, to be a team!” Too difficult! Too many words! Too weak!

Two words! Two simple words, “Try again.”

There is deep wisdom in this.

Thanks kids.


  • “Cam, I know we only just met, but can you help me move on Saturday?”

“Try again.”

  • Chugger extending hand: “Hey buddy [I hate “buddy”] are you having a great day?”

“Try again”

  • “I’m sorry sir, there is no more whisky at the bar”


And so on…


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