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Jul 3

*pop*

Posted on Tuesday, July 3, 2007 in Family, Strange and Unusual

The darnedest thing happened earlier on…

My wee two year old was out in the street playing with our dog.  She was wearing her tatty pink princess dress, which is an item of clothing she obsesses about and has worn for the last three days.  She wore wellington boots, and her brother’s over-sized grey sweater.  Her hair was un brushed and wild.  She looked like a tiny orphan, caught in her own little imaginary world, dancing in puddles and blowing washing-up-liquid bubbles from an old plastic jar. 

Suddenly, her presence on the road was noticed by the other kids on the street, who swarmed outside to her.  She’s a bit of a novelty on the road. I don’t let her out there much because of the weather, and the fact that she has a tendency to invite herself (or just walk in) to other folk’s houses.  As the road became suddenly busier with the sounds of laughter, shouting and heavy footsteps jumping in puddles, I focussed on my kid.  She was oblivious to anything other than her jar of bubbles and her dog.  Every time she blew a bubble, the dog would leap into the air and snap loudly in an attempt to eat it.  This could go on for hours… days, if you’d let them.  Each bubble popped by the dog would be accompanied by peals of mini laughter from the little girl.

Every now and then, however, a bubble would escape and soar upwards over the rooftops and into the sky.  I caught myself staring at these bubbles in horror.  I felt an overwhelming need, like an obsessive compulsion to catch those drifting bubbles filled with the small child’s breath.  It felt like a little part of her innocence was being lost with each inaudible pop above the chaos and curses below.  If I could, I would’ve trapped those bubbles in a jar to keep forever, but I couldn’t, and it felt like my heart was about to break.

But then she came back in to me and hugged my leg before asking for a biscuit, and I found out that all of those lost bubbles were inside of me anyway.   

fuzzybubbles.jpg

Bring on the comments

  1. How sweet. Nicely done. Print this post out and put in your memories box for her to discover later when she will appreciate it.

  2. Grannymar says:

    Why do parents waste money on expensive toys?

    You painted the picture well, and once again I was back in Elly’s childhood. Bubbles were a great favourite with her too.

    Elly did surveys when she was a little older – sitting in the back garden counting the cars on the road way down below, red ones, blue ones etc.

  3. baino says:

    Awww Kate. So sweet. I wish I could have captured the essence of my two before they got too big but every now and then . . .like tonight for instance . . .we went out to a restaurant together and giggled at what they did when they were little – and they’re still the same little muddy puddle sploshers they always were except their faces are cleaner these days.

    I love the clothing image. Neither of mine ever looked like they were dressed out of anything but the rag bag at play. Actually DrummerBoy stll looks like he’s dressed out of the rag bag so some things never change. Lovely post darls.

  4. b3n says:

    It’s great to see that the kids where you live play on the street instead of being stuck inside on Playstations. Puddle jumping will soon be a lost art along with kerbs, levo, kick the can and making camps.

  5. Grandad says:

    That is one of the best bits you’ve written yet!!

    And there is nothing like the sound of a Puppychild giggle!!

  6. K8 says:

    Sixty- that’s a good idea! I often wondered how long this blog’s life will be, will it last long enough for me not to have to print things out?

    Grannymar, I’m sure she made flower-petal perfume too like all the other little kids I know!

    Baino, Thanks petal :) Do we ever grow up? I don’t think so.

    b3n You forgot Red Rover and Sticks! And hopscotch o’ course. I haven’t seen a chalked hopscotch in yeeeaaars.

    Daddyo, cheers, ears! It’s gas, both her and her daddy always get other people giggling once they start! So does Sean actually. Whenever I giggle, people look at me strange until I realise that nobody cracked a joke.

  7. Brianf says:

    Incredibly well done!
    Again!
    This one ranks up there with the story of spending the day with your Grandmother.
    You deserve a gold star for it.

  8. K8 says:

    YAY!!! I’ll stick it on my forehead.

  9. Kate says:

    A good point… those bubbles hold together a blown wish, a kiss, something infinitely precious. It’s hard to let them go – but if they’re not released to the universe, then those wishes can’t come true.

  10. Granny says:

    Your lovely prose brought me back to a caravan park in Biarritz.

    You were three and we drove a clapped out Ford Fiesta to the South of France. Not a worry. We were young and wine cost £1 a bottle!

    One day it started to rain. Not soft like Irish rain but ferocious and fierce. Your little German blond friend was out swinging at the park and you were quite determined to join him. He hadn’t a word of English but somehow you managed to communicate. You were well covered in a raincoat, wellingtons and a hat.

    An hour later, you arrived back to us, sopping and covered in muck. As I bent down to undo the buttons, you threw your arms around my neck and gave me such a squeeze! It was the nicest squeeze I’ve ever had.

    That little memory stayed with me and I can still feel that squeeze!

  11. K8 says:

    I suppose you do need to let these things go, Kate. I feel a bit like Nemo’s dad. But that’s probably because I’ve just finished watching it for the 467,300,435th time.

    Wow mammy, I remember playing foozball with that wee German kid!!! That’s a dusty memory, thanks for reminding me!

  12. Annie says:

    Ahhh.. what a lovely post! Thanks to the proud Grandad for the heads up!

    My 2 little cousins are the exact same. Last summer when they were 4 and 2, they played non stop out the back (on the 5 minutes when it wasn’t raining) with their bubbles giggling they pretty little heads off. Heartbreakingly cute.

  13. K8 says:

    Thanks Annie! I’m chuffed you dropped by :)
    There’s something about a small kid’s giggle that embeds itself in the walls of a house for years afterwards. It’s better than any medicine ever invented. Except calpol of course.

  14. englishmum says:

    Wonderful. Grandad’s right, only an artist can paint such a beautiful picture with words x

  15. unstranger says:

    Your perspective here is almost frightening. I loved the whole idea that where what is part of what you created can drift over rooftops, leaving in a bubble!

    Absolutely incredible. Start writing the books. It’s in you. People will read every bubble you print.

  16. K8 says:

    Thank you :)

    Books are such epic things. I wouldn’t know where to start! Someday it’ll happen, maybe. It just feels like it isn’t time yet?

  17. awwwwwwww when i was riannas age (sorry if i got her name spelled wrong) I would spend hours doing the same with my own bubbles. me and my dog smithy would have hours of fun doing this. I would like to say who needs expensive toys when you have fairy liquid and a childs imagaination. lets not forget the trusty furry sidekick.

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