Aw, bless, she’s wearing one of those woolly hats with long dangly sides and animal ears – a massive improvement on the ‘Porn Star’ T-shirt she was wearing when I saw her in the summer.
I think I might have mentioned in passing that I didn’t feel that a sequinned declaration that she was up for a videotaped spitroast was entirely appropriate, seeing as she was only 8-years-old.
So I go for an ice-breaker: ‘That’s a very nice hat. Are you a wolf?’
Mum sauntered behind her into the consulting room, if it’s possible to saunter whilst wearing a huge pair of Ugg boots, sporting almost identical headgear. More feline than lupine, but fluffy and ‘wuvvly’ and looking altogether ridiculous on somebody well beyond nursery school age.
Zeitgeist-wise, it seems that infantile is the way to go. Who knows why. Maybe it’s because soaring house prices mean that children live at home until they’re almost into middle age. Apron strings don’t get cut, umbilical cords don’t detach. Freudians, if there were any left to ask, would have a field day watching people dress themselves like their children as a way of avoiding adult responsibilities.
Those of you who follow the @DocCopperfield account on Twitter will already know that my original appraisal submission has been returned to me for redaction. One of the many entries that my appraiser-to-be had problems with was the one outlining, in some detail, my complete lack of interest in providing ‘reflections’ on my learning experiences. It’s not a mandatory requirement, revalidation-wise, but it’s strongly recommended so I can ‘get the most out of the appraisal experience’. Meh. In fact, double meh.
I don’t want to get anything out of the appraisal experience. Frankly I’d much rather get out of the appraisal experience altogether.
If I have to suck it up and go through it then I’m perfectly happy to supply details of the educational courses I’ve attended, show my contemporaneous notes to anybody who fancies a look and even show them what I wrote in the ‘What did you learn from today’s meeting’ bit of the feedback sheets. Even if it was only that Dr X from The X Park Health Centre should really go and see someone about his snoring before he falls asleep at the wheel and wipes out an innocent family at the bus stop. What I’m not about to do is sit down and write a letter home to mummy about what I learned at big school today.
And last night I asked Teddy, Eeyore and Fluffy Bunny what they thought, and they all agreed with me. So there.