Crofting Tiger Mum

Thought Tiger Mums were over ambitious? Just wait till you meet the Crofting Mum, similar but not in the same category as the aspiring Beethoven/Genius type.

That’s right, it’s December and Mini Crofter has been put into a t-shirt to help toughen him up for the Crofter coming home and turning off the heat.

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While he shows potential in bouldering and climbing overhangs from the age of 10 months, his mother puts down no crash mats (life can be painful boy, learn it young) and makes him do it in tights (hey, if you’re the next Billy Elliot you’ll need to learn to pirouette in tights). Now, at what age can he be given the responsibility of checking the coolant and emptying radiators in tractors…?

He is picking up the basics of foraging (rice cakes from the floor are obviously tastier than the table varieties and are much more edible than the hay or chicken muck Mum traipsed in).

No, my ambition is not that he climbs Everest, just does he have the potential for crofting (sometimes seem very similar although I have no Serpa and I have no champagne bottle to enjoy at the end of the day).

Ahh, the poor boy; rural, over ambitious mother! If only he had a TV or a mother who could score a point on Radio 2’s Pop Master…

(N.B., I do realise that most people have already figured out my sense of humour although I now anticipate Social Workers at my door tomorrow, which is fine, I’d like to shift the calves and sheep to the rough field and could do with a hand. If anyone would like to report me can you tell them to pitch up with wellies…?

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