The timeless art of parenting

I have an Aunt and Uncle who I love dearly. They are very cool and very eccentric. They live in a nice part of Central London, socialise with a rather decadent crowd and frequently roll home at 3am after being in various establishments.

They are not well off, they 'get by'. My aunt, in particular, knows and is known by most of the people living and working in this part of London; she is on about one hundred committees, a frequent 'talking head' on the local news and is generally pretty damn fab.

She's also a brilliant aunt, and my uncle is bascially a legend. But today I found out what a brilliant great aunt and uncle they are. My children adore them. Aunt kept the toddler amused throughout lunch (which was rather yummy if I say so myself, slow cooked peppered venison with gorgonzola scone) with a rather cunning game involving green beans, which seemed to end up with most of them being eaten, no mean feat. Uncle was smitten by the baby and had her in his arms for most of the afternoon. She stared adoringly at him and was in heaven at having such an attentive audience.

It made me realise that I am such a novice at this parenting game. These two special people have done their time; done their share of sleepless nights, working parent guilt, tantrum calming and finding novel ways to get good food in children. They are masters of distraction techniques, gurus at game playing, they are the gold standard in my book.

They were always wonderful when I was little. They seemed to come down to visit us every weekend. My sisters and I would anticipate the stories my Aunt would tell us at bedtime with such excitement. She could make up some brilliant tales normally involving a magical person called 'Mary Fairy', how I wish I could spin a yarn like that. My mother was her best friend, and when she died my Aunt's grief was tangible, her mourning has never really stopped.

Today she came armed with a bag of old photos, newspaper cuttings and postcards that my mother was in or had written. I can't wait to go through that bag when I have a quiet hour to myself (sometime in the next millenium perhaps). To see my mum when she was young and full of life is always something I treasure. I was slightly saddened that she had decided to do this now though; almost as if she doesn't feel she'll be here much longer and she feels it's important to pass on these memories before it's too late. But maybe I'm being morbid.

Bizarrely my aunt and uncle are separated but still spend most of their time together; they were truly made for each other. They are truly special. And if I can still entertain small children that well when I'm a great aunt, I'll be a very happy person.

I hope everyone had lovely weekends x