Being A Role Model

This week, it was pointed out to me by a very lovely young lady (that I'm not related to), that I was her favourite adult. She likes that I can laugh at myself, that I'm caring and funny, that I say prayers and that if she needs me she knows I'll be there. She ended the conversation, by letting me know that when she grows up she wants to be just like me.

Top Ender and PippaD selfie

So apparently I'm now a role model. Who would have thunk it?

I never thought it would be something I'd have to worry about, I mean my kids know not to have me as a role model because they live with me and so see that I occasionally do stupid things like trip up the stairs, talk to myself, pour drinks down my T-shirt instead of into my mouth, burn my mouth by eating food that is too hot, fall over despite their being nothing to trip on and maybe once I've locked myself out of the house...

I'm not the sort of person that other people would have as a role model. Who wants to be an overweight, sometimes amusing, scatter brain, always asking questions on facebook, spends far too much time on the internet in general, self-righteous weirdo?

Be quiet, you at the back.

The point is that nobody ever says to their teacher/career guidance counsellor/diary/parent they want to be the above, they say normal things like a Vet, a Journalist, an Author, a Priest, Harry Potter, a Chef, an Animator, a Fashion Designer, a Fire Engine, a Doctor, a Nurse, an Archaeologist, a Food Taster, a DJ, Doctor Who, an Actor, a Singer, an Accountant, a Teacher.

You know, Normal things.

And yet somehow by being myself I've managed to get myself in the position where I'm being looked up at and emulated.

You'd all better start praying, because I honestly don't know what the world is coming to.