The Bono effect

I ended my last post with a provocative promise to reveal how we had spent the second half of my last week off. I have put off doing so, not because I'm a bit lazy, but because I have for the last month been struggling with an ethical dilemma. Honest.

For the truth is, my wife and I decided to expose our daughters to some admirably charitable activity. The dilemma arose from my concern that any such altruism is undermined if you start showing off about it afterwards. One has to question the motives of someone who is too keen to inform you of their generosity. Let's call this the Bono effect. Are the beneficiaries of such charity mere pawns in a vanity project? Does it even matter?

Ultimately, I have skirted around this debate by deciding that it's all fine a month later. So I can proudly describe to you the excellent examples we set for our children. Our first thought was to donate some blankets to the local homeless shelter. But, upon taking the sensible precaution of phoning them first (at risk of evoking the Bono effect), we were informed that cold, hard cash would be more useful. They're the experts, so we obliged. We signed up as organ donors. I had already done this years ago, but I did it again to be on the safe side. I hope I haven't double-booked my kidneys.

We also went to give blood. It was my first time, and our naive failure to book appointments meant that we endured a rather long wait at the temporary blood-letting venue: a somewhat evangelical church hall. The only reading material to hand was a bit on the Goddy side, so it was a struggle to entertain the girls without subjecting them to a kind of subliminal indoctrination. The resulting anxiety left me quite fearful of what was, to be fair, a bloody massive needle, by the time it was eased into my arm. I can honestly say though that it was completely painless, and over remarkably quickly. Also, the cliche about the glow of pride experienced by blood donors is surprisingly accurate, aided in my case by the handy visual aid which was the astonishing bruise that spread across my entire forearm over the following week. I showed that bruise to a lot of people. Bono effect be damned. I sort of miss it now. Horrific lesions aside, I strongly urge anyone who can give blood to do so. But make an appointment first.

So far, so socially responsible. But our daughters had really just seen us make some phone calls and sit in a church hall. For a more tangible demonstration of the joy of benevolence, we made up some bags of gifts: a chocolate bar, a lottery scratchcard, a stamped postcard (with a note suggesting that the recipient send a message to a loved one) and one or two other things whose exact natures I cannot recall. But they were definitely really charming. We went to a local town, whose identity I shall not disclose, and simply had a nice wander about, discarding our joyful offerings in unassuming public places. I think our daughters enjoyed themselves, and hopefully they picked up some sense of the day's purpose. I certainly experienced fulfillment, although I did feel a bit naughty: the guilt of a vigilante? My wife and I grew quite paranoid about a suspicious gentleman loitering in one park where we were spreading our love. We convinced ourselves that he was a local councillor, come to tell us off for failing to be nice through the proper channels. But it was ok: he was just a weird man hanging around in a park.

And so ended our days of commendable charity. I'm not really sure how effective it all was as a lesson in generosity for our children. I'm sure they've got a bit better at sharing with each other since. Can this be a coincidence?

Sister act 2

And now, as advertised, further musings upon the areas in which my daughter shows early signs of big sister prowess:

Generosity

From the first time we allowed our daughter to handle her own food, she has demonstrated a quite touching inclination to share it. She simply will not let any rusk, carrot stick or blueberry pass her lips until she has successfully offered it to whichever person initially provided her with the morsel in question. To see this person nibble (or quite convincingly pretend to) upon her snack fills our daughter with glee.

This instinctive generosity is an adorable and highly commendable trait, and one which should ensure that she will always do her utmost to provide for her sibling, as well as setting him or her an excellent example.

Of course it could be that our daughter suspects my wife and I of attempting to poison her, and is simply taking the sensible precaution of having us taste her food first to attest to its safety. I should stress that - inadvertent egg crises aside - we have never poisoned her. Nevertheless, the self preservation instinct implied by this theory is also a very useful characteristic in a sister.

Coolness

I can honestly say that my proudest achievement as a father came only about a week ago, when I taught my daughter to high-five. Oh yes. I need only hold my outstretched palm near her, and her little mit slaps satisfyingly away at it, spreading contagious joy across the faces of all present. Anybody who has ever been anywhere near the 1980s will know that there is no greater indication of whether a person is cool, or perhaps rad, or bodacious.

Thus, I can now claim indisputably that my daughter is worthy of all of these adjectives. And this, above all else, will cement her position as trusted life mentor in the eyes of her younger brother or sister.

Abrupt Ending 2

I don't have to go to work today. But I can't think of any more examples. Which is not to say that there are none. But that is all for now.