Sticker

Today, The Boy was awarded a sticker at school. It was small, round (smaller than his index fingernail), blue and had "well done" printed on it, with a smiley face in the middle of it. He was wearing it on the lapel of his shirt.

It is the first sticker he has ever been awarded at this school (his first ever from an educational establishment was from a pre school in Wandsworth. It was a dinosaur. A tyrannosaurus rex. I still have it).

We are big on stickers at Wiltshire Towers, despite their transitory, non biodegradable status.

They are used for every sort of bribe imaginable, from getting The Lid to sit on the potty or toilet without shattering my eardrums with her displeased screams, to rewarding good handwriting, for positive behavioural re-enforcement ("well done! You didn't hit me when I told you no, even though you were cross". Yes, bizarre I know, but it works. Sometimes) to charting progress of daily tasks so that both Midgets can remember their routine.

Both are always happy to receive such trinkets from Mummy. Who doesn't like a sticker? But I had underestimated the power of receiving a sticker from school.

He approached me shyly, and indicated his shirt. I had spotted it immediately, but wanted him to tell me all about it. He told me how, because he had been a big boy and worked very hard to get "five Captain Adorables" (a behaviour re-enforcement "reward chart" that his teacher has developed), even though he had only got three on his chart he had been given the sticker for being such a calm, well behaved boy. He also had a certificate commending him on his tremendous effort.

The visible pride that he had in telling me, the care he took in showing me the certificate and the sticker, the wideness of his smile and his unprompted cuddle to me to show his delight at receiving them - the reward was rolled on to me, too. Marvelous.