Emily Bryce-Perkins
(Picture: Daniel Hambury/@stellapicsltd)It’s not unlikely that my son is sitting in his normal clothes at nursery on World Book Day surrounded by kids whose parents remember things. I saw this tweet the other day: a child, clearly a gifted one, announced that they were subverting World Book Day and going to school dressed as a ‘muggle.’ No silly capes. No wig. No lightning bolt Biro’d on their forehead by a tired parent covered in cornflakes. Clever kid I thought. Followed by, “oh Yeah, World Book Day. Yet another bloody thing to remember.”
You see, World Book Day wasn’t a thing in my day. Class divides between the haves and have-nots mostly happened during ‘mufti day’, also known as the day you could show off if you came from a family that could afford Kickers or not. But don’t you think, and I’ll whisper this part, that World Book Day is just another loathsome opportunity for parent-bragging? Children divided between parents who frantically search Google to see if there is a literary character made up of clingfilm – and parents who remember things. Oh cool, you got a degree in literature in 2001 and actually, yes, now that you mention it, your child does do that character from page 492 of War & Peace justice. Good for you. Now leave me alone while I watch this re-run of Sex and The City I can recite by heart.
There’s an assumption, when one becomes a parent, that you develop a capacity to remember absolutely everything a child could possibly need. Wet wipes. Snacks. Tissues. Distractions. Your literature degree. An outfit for World Book Day. Since becoming a parent, I’ve lost count of the amount of times a stranger has stopped me in the park and said, “oh you must have a tissue!” as they gestured towards the fresh bird faeces on their shoulder. Okay, that happened once. But the point stands.
As I said, my son is likely sitting in nursery in his normal clothes right now, surrounded by miniature Harry Potters. Well, son, you’ve just turned two and you can’t read yet. But I promise you by next year, I’ll have taught you the word muggle.
