25 February 2013

Sixty minutes that led to heartbreak

Yesterday afternoon, the girls and I went to the park so that their father could pursue the manly task of mowing the lawn without the screams of terror that the girls omit when confronted with domestic tasks.  They have a similar reaction to vacuuming so we have to run these park interventions a couple of times a year.

Anyway, we get to the park and we go on the swings, the slides, the seesaw and the bobbly horse thing and the Cassinator practices her walking and clapping.  She also attempts to eat the woodchip but wisely discards the bottle top she digs up.  The Tullinator bores of the actual things at the park and we start playing make believe shops with her posing behind the seesaw and me requesting potatoes and tomatoes which is all her shop sold.

While I am endlessly purchasing two tomatoes for two monies - she who is not 11 months until tomorrow defies death by hauling herself up the steps to the slide, beaming joyfully and hurling herself down with shrieks of delight.

Cheeky dote! 
Anyway, there were no injuries resulting so it's okay to have taken a photo.

Thankfully, just about that point where I was going to hurl my two year old over the fence if she asked me if I wanted to buy two tomatoes for two monies one more time, an angelic vision presented itself to us.  As this angelic vision has not yet heard of identity theft, stranger danger or TMI, I am going to call her Jane to protect her from her own delightfulness.

She is 7, has an almost 10 year old sister, is named for a pop star, has a red house, with flowers, her address is... (not telling) and she loves to play at the park.  She played shops, demonstrated trapeze on the swing, hurled the Tullinator into the sky with an energetic seesaw session and taught her the expression "I love to have my bottom banged", the whole time updating me on every aspect of her life (which I can assure you I never asked for and would never do so because that would have made me very creepy.)  It was hilarious.
This is the two new besties on the seesaw.
Unfortunately she didn't know the seesaw song and Tully was about to puke from being hurled into the air so enthusiastically so I had to suggest a change of pace.  For a while they made cakes, lettuces and eggs from woodchip and lined them up on the seesaw counter.  I relaxed for a moment so the Cassinator fell off the steps.  And clapped.

Jane took Tully over to the bushes to show her the magic space behind the leaves (otherwise known as that dead bit under a tree) and entertained herself by popping her head out and yelling 'BOO' so that Tully yelped in shock and then screeched with laughter in the way that only toddlers or the deranged can.  And then, still telling me all about her life from birth to current times, she decided to show the girls how to make red dust from rocks.

Is there anything this girl can't do?
And of course, keen to examine the red dust for herself, the Tullinator sticks her hand under the rock in motion and ends up minus a chunk of her finger.  Cue the wailing normally reserved for Greek tragedies while the younger sister applauds vigorously. Encore! Encore!

They returned to the lettuce out of woodchip game while I tossed options up in my head about how we could extricate ourselves without appearing unappreciative of the girl's time, imagination and entertainment.  I can assure you an hour in the park had never passed so quickly.  Jane's father came by at that stage to return to his home at.... (still not telling) and off they skipped into the twilight, accompanied by the frenzied sobbing of my little girl bereft at the loss of her new BFF.  She didn't want to go home to daddy, she wanted to play shopping with Jane and stay at the park forever.

Poor darling, first major heartbreak.  Thank god they don't remember anything until they are older or this magical hour could have scarred her for life. But kudos to Jane - may she stay as delightful for all time.