Fox (n): carnivore of genus vulpes; crafty person; scavenger; (vb) to confuse; -ed (adj): to be drunk.

Friday, 3 June 2011

Wanted: Bond villain superYoda.

I HAVE long thought the family home of Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin must be a total fun vacuum and now we have the proof.

The world's most watery couple have advertised for a tutor to give their two children, aged five and seven, some extra-curricular lessons - in ancient Greek, chess, Japanese, Latin, sailing, philosophy, art, and drama. They must also be young, humourous and sporty, and able to play at least two musical instruments.

Never mind that such a gifted candidate would probably be more interested in building an underground lair, instructing young Jedis or rescuing semi-blind female reporters while wearing pants on top of his tights, than teaching two little rich kids on macrobiotic diets that lentils are fun.

Never mind that someone with those skills could probably rule the world and make billions, and thus may well turn their nose up at the £62,000-a-year salary, west London flat and a half-share in a hybrid car.

And never mind that he or she would have to let Gwyneth win at chess, even when she's following the rules for Ludo and complaining it's all too phallocentric.

What's more important about this is that a great deal of the topics listed are the kind of things parents normally teach their children.

I never had a tutor outside school. Instead my gran educated me on politics and feminism; my mum taught me sociology and how to live; my grandad showed me wit and the art of argument; my dad the sciences and Greek principles of engineering (he's fond of quoting Archimedes); and I picked up the art of being a drama queen all by myself.

If they hadn't done those things, I might still have learned them. But then I wouldn't have had half as much fun or happy memories, and nor would my parents and grandparents.

It all makes me wonder what the hell La Paltrow and Piss Martin's children must think. I can only imagine them tripping sadly downstairs in their organic, non-gender specific dressing gowns, like Jane and Michael Banks in Mary Poppins, with their own idea of a perfect tutor.

Except that rather than asking for "a cheery disposition, rosy cheeks and no warts" I bet they'd be asking for trips to KFC, fizzy drinks, unfettered internet access and an XBox.

"No, mummy! Not more lentils!"