Balloon World
We rush this two year-old too fast
at the market, eager to cram him sponge-like
with colours and sound and action, lift him
high to survey forests of broccoli
tumbles of red and green capsicums
yellow dunes of apples, laid out like a map.
Let down to wander, he is drawn to the snicker-snacker
of the barber’s clippers, and the tangles and curls
strewn on the floor.
At the pet shop he tries to tug the lids
off the fish tanks - he’s learnt that most things
give way under enough pressure. His hands hover
over two buckets of smooth aquarium stones
as if in blessing for this gift – but he’s whisked out
to the aisle, where an elephant suited man
sprouting white balloons, stoops to give him one on a stick,
pats his head but goes unrewarded.
Like a blind man the child taps his balloon
straight through the crowd dodging and tripping
around him - he is in total eclipse.
“Being at home can be fun, insulating, relaxed, boring or isolating ... depending on how the day is going.”*
School holidays are almost over in my part of the world – six long weeks of noise and squabbling balanced by hot, lazy days at the beach or the pool with lots of daring exploits and laughter. Many of our days were spent at home, basking in simple pleasures like baking, playing games or outdoor pursuits – trying to relax the everyday routines of school-morning bustle and ‘having to be somewhere on time’. However pleasant, I must admit to being relieved that life gets back to normal next week, and I can reclaim some of my own time for writing again!
* From Being Mummy by Anne‑marie Taplin published April 2007