Aunt Mary, sorry to trouble you, but could you possibly look after my little one for a while? On the doorstep stood a young woman, looking a bit sheepish.
Whats that, dear? The lady of the house pretended not to have heard the request.
My neighbours said you sometimes watch other peoples children for a short time when their parents are out, the young woman ventured, mustering a hopeful smile.
Remember this, love, theres no such thing as other peoples children. Theyre all ours in the end, Aunt Mary pronounced grandly.
Oh, of course, the mother brightened up. So, youll do it?
How long are you leaving him with me then?
Only for a couple of hours.
Exactly two, is it?
Well, maybe three the mum admitted, not quite meeting her eye.
No, love, that wont do, the older lady said firmly. Ill only take him for a precise number of hours, and youll need to sign for him.
Sign for him? Whatever for?
Because, for every minute youre late picking him up, youll owe me a pound.
A pound a minute? Really?
Yes, indeed. So, an extra hour will set you back sixty pounds.
Goodness. So what do you charge for three hours?
Well, whats the child?
Pardon?
Is the little one a boy or a girl?
Does that matter?
Of course it does. Three hours for a girl is fifteen pounds. For a boy, thirty.
But why the difference?
Well, cant you see the difference between boys and girls for yourself?
Not really. Aside from some details, theyre pretty much the same.
Exactly! Its those little details that make all the difference. If its a boy
Yes, its a boy, the young mum admitted.
There you are. Before he comes over, Ill have to make myself presentable.
How do you mean?
In the plainest sense. Iron my dressing gown, paint my nails, put on some eyeliner, do my lips, the lot. Cosmetics cost a pretty penny these days.
But, honestly! The mum protested in surprise. My Jacobs only five. Why does it matter what you look like?
How can you ask such a thing? Appearance matters, even for little boys they need to develop taste from an early age.
And for girls?
Theyll work it out on their own. But boys need to know the difference between a glamorous lady and a frump. Or would you rather he brought home someone dreadful when he grows up? I hope youre not shuffling about in torn tights and a grubby robe in front of him?
Me? The woman looked uncertain, blushed. Is that not okay?
Oh, my dear! exclaimed Aunt Mary. Never forget: a boy will choose a wife like his mother. If youd prefer a slovenly daughter-in-law
I wouldnt! So, can I bring him now?
When exactly?
Now. I said I need to pop out for a few hours.
And youll be on time?
Yes I promise Ill be back in three hours.
All right then. Bring him over, in fifteen minutes. By the way, what are his interests?
Interests?
What does he like to talk about? Machines? Science? Or maybe hes always babbling about art?
But, come on! Hes only five!
Precisely, which is why Im asking, said Aunt Mary.
Why?
Well, its at this age that childrens passions form. My Peter at five could take apart any bicycle and later a car engine.
At five?!
Of course. His father, my late husband, was the best mechanic in Leeds. Didnt you know?
No.
A shame. My second son was fiddling with the violin at five. We kept telling him to choose something else, since his dad wasnt musical, but look at him now teaches music theory at the college. Goes to show: anyone can do anything if they put their mind to it. Now, as for my third
The third is the sportsman, isnt he? cut in the young mum.
Yes, exactly! Thats why we still have the climbing wall in the house. If your Jacob fancies a bit of a climb, Ill show him a trick or two.
You? said the mum, astonished. Really?
Why not? I also have a piano, a violin, books on mechanics, music, even fishing. Tell me what your boys keen on, and Ill keep him so engaged youll forget your own errands.
Hes not interested in anything, the mother confessed sadly.
What does he dream about then?
I dont think he dreams of anything.
Not possible! Aunt Mary exclaimed. A real boy at five should want a magic wand, to fly like a bird, be an alien, climb inside the washing machine just as its switched on. He ought to want to see how the telly works, or stroke a real-life tiger at the zoo. He doesnt wish for any of that?
He only wants one thing a mobile phone like the grown-ups have, the mother said despairingly.
That explains it. Aunt Mary nodded. All right, bring the boy over in fifteen minutes. Ill only charge you the girls rate. Fifteen pounds.
But, why? Hes a boy.
So what? Just having one of those in his trousers doesnt tell you much. But dont worry Ill make a proper lad out of him.
Really? the mother asked, apprehensive. How?
Dont you worry about that. But next time he asks to come and he will, believe me Ill be charging the boys rate. Deal?
Deal, she resigned herself quietly. Ive little choice.
Good. Now, off you pop for your son. I must get my face on.
The next morning, Jacob had barely woken when he asked, Mum, am I going to Aunt Marys today?
Why? asked his mother a trifle jealously.
Its so much fun at hers! her son replied, eyes shining.
