Legal skills in action…for legal mums (and dads).

I’m doing my law degree part-time, which means by the time I finish, my little boy will be almost nine. Nine! Right now he’s only four, so in his eyes I’m just “Mummy with the big books.” By the time I’m done, he’ll probably be ready to moot.

Last year, he wasn’t ready for Criminal Law or Law and the State. He’d sit there, listen politely, eyes glazing over until sleep mercifully claimed him. Easy win for bedtime stories. Although I now feel that I might have been filling his mind with ideas of what not to do.

But this year he’s sharper. Much sharper. He and his best friend Jo, who’s ten months younger but just as quick, have started plotting mischief together like a pair of pint-sized law-maker-in-training, except their cases usually involve biscuits, scooters, or which adult they can charm next. Honestly, it’s like living with two tiny criminal conspirators.

So when my Tort Law textbook arrived, Freddy thought it was an early present. His excitement vanished once he realised there were no pictures and definitely no stories inside.

The conversation went something like this:

Freddy: “Mummy, what is this book?”
Me: “It’s for my course.”
Freddy: “It’s so heavy! Tell me the story inside.”
Me: “Sorry, sweetheart… no story in this one.”

But Freddy doesn’t do weak answers. He wanted details. So in my best “legal-mum” style, I tried to explain what Tort law actually meant.

Me: “You know when your friend Tom took your toy and you were upset?”
Freddy: “Yes.”
Me: “Well, he didn’t mean to upset you. He didn’t know it was yours. So even though it felt wrong, it wasn’t really his fault.”
Freddy: “Yes, it was his fault. So I punched him.”

Yikes. Still stuck in Criminal Law mode.

Me: “Okay… let’s try another one. What if the kids riding their bikes down our street didn’t look where they were going and ran into you? Would they be wrong?”
Freddy: “No, because I was in their way and I should have moved.”
Me: “Are you sure?”
Freddy: “Yes. But when they weren’t looking, I kicked their bikes.” Cue evil laugh.

Meanwhile, Jo is usually the co-defendant in these stories, nodding in agreement like he’s ready to cross-examine me.

So here I am, raising a future legal or criminal duo who can argue their way out of (or possibly into) anything.

Maybe this is the real reason I’m doing this degree: not to become a barrister, but to stay one step ahead of Freddy and Jo’s growing criminal empire.