Summer: Visiting Gardens With A Bloody Minded Five Year Old

You know those people who say that you should get kids gardening from a young age? Yes, the smug ones who have never met a five year old. They have never been faced with a barrage of NO, NO, NO, NO, NO...BUM *snigger*. They have never seen a five year old run out of the room in fury only to forget to open the door first because you mentioned that you may be visiting a garden today. Don't get us wrong, Little D loves our garden because he knows where all the food is growing. Unknown gardens are something else and most times he can't touch or eat anything, though that cat at Great Dixter had it coming according to Little D. You too may have a bloody minded child in your life, the kind of child when you ask to pose for the camera does this...

Gurning child


At Sarah Raven's garden he decided to be a lame pony, don't ask we don't know either, but it did mean that he could drag his feet through the gravel and go, 'ye-har!' anytime we took a photo of him. He was enormously pissed off that the fruit was in a cage or as he lamented at the top of his voice: 'Oh no, they've done it again, they've put the fruit in prison'. Again, we have no idea where he gets it from, whatever he is on, can we have some, please.


Taking children to show gardens

There were moments of calm in some gardens. These moments tended to be when we kept ten feet away from him and we had and he had plausible deniability.


Great Dixter

He loved the lawns at Sissinghurst, where he ran around yelling, 'I'm running around' just in case the 50+ strong coach party from Germany watching him were in anyway unsure what he was doing. Then there was waspgate which involved anytime we sat down to eat something, wasps would show up, and if they didn't, imaginary wasps called Clive would show up. It sometimes involved screaming but on the whole involved him stuffing an entire sandwich into his mouth (his way of protecting it) and him pointing off into the distant whilst saying: 'Oooble - oooble - oooble'. It was like watching a weird Moon Face from Enid Blyton demanding that Silky sod off down the tree. The oooble was Little D's polite way of telling the wasp to depart stage left and if that didn't work he would try and flatten it with anything at hand, a book, a menu and in one case, the cat at Great Dixter. By the way, cats don't fly and they don't always land on their feet, however they do hate wasps.


Running child at Sissinghurst

We love Little D but he has got to the stage where he will argue black is white, white is black and that there is no such bloody thing as grey. However, at Sissinghurst he did find the grass incredibly funny and that is not a drugs reference, he literally fell on the floor giggling after doing this...


Gladiator moment

We are Carol and Andrew and we have a bloody minded five year old who gurns whenever he is told that we are going to see a garden and will chuck cats at wasps.

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