I wasn’t going to write another blog but I thought about all the effort my friend Eloise made to encourage me to join. So here is my 8th Blog (I think). This one is about riches.
When my daughter was around 10 years old, we were living in Cornwall. She attended a comprehensive school a fair distance away from our home. This, of course, meant I would take her, along with her brother, to school and collect them in the afternoon. There was a bus route but the bus they provided was a broken-down old thing which on occasions would clap out on the way there or back!
I collected them as usual one day, arriving four minutes late and being told in no uncertain terms the time – they actually finished at 15-45 not 15-49. The digital clock gave me away!
Once the atmosphere had reached a normal level, conversation resumed. My daughter who, in the past, was described as “very forthright” by an over-whelmed teacher and as “a fog horn” by another, started the chat about riches and were we rich? I wondered why she would ask me this so I delved a little deeper. Apparently, because my husband and I both had a car, to some of her associates this meant we were rich! So, the question came: “Are we rich, Mummy?” My reply was yes, of course we are rich.
She became very interested in my answer so I proceeded to tell her why. I told her that not only do I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach, a wonderful husband who treats me with respect, three healthy and adorable children, three dogs and two cats, I am also free to speak as I like without persecution. Thinking that this would explain our riches to her, she looked at me and said, in what only can be described as a thoroughly disappointed manner, “I thought we had money!”