Years ago, I was a full-time working mother. One afternoon, I finished work early and visited my son’s classroom. All around the walls were pictures of females, drawn by the children, all entitled ‘My Mum’. All were drawn with great care, but I must admit, none was recognisable as anyone that I knew!
Under each picture was a description. Under mine, was written:
‘This is my mum. She has brown hair. She is a counsellor. She does not have any hobbies’
What a boring mother!
‘Richard’, I said, ‘Why did you write that I have no hobbies? After all, I knit and crochet, and do dressmaking, I go to French classes, I grow our vegetables and fruit, and I make wine and jam, I play the piano and go to the theatre and concerts’.
‘Oh’, said he… realisation dawning… ‘Well, you see, the teacher told us to write down a list of your hobbies. I wasn’t sure what hobbies were, so I asked her … and she told me that hobbies are what people do in their spare time…….but you never have any spare time, do you Mum?’
It’s all a question of interpretation really isn’t it?