Technically I walk. Little Bit sits in her stroller, watching the world passing by. She looks like she approves of the route I've chosen: over the footbridge to the big playground, watching the birdies. Or it might just be her general kingly expression. Who wouldn't look like that when you're driven around town?
Even for me the walk is interesting. I observe playing kids, other walkers and strollers. The kids are playing an elaborate game where they nail something to a tree. Or pretend to nail it there. They even scavenged a shopping cart somewhere. Are they playing homeless?
Another group assaults the door of the local community centre. I can throw my disapproving teacherly glance their way. They don't notice and go on shouting obscenities and hammering on a closed door. This too can only be an almost real game by soon-to-be teens.
When we return from the playground and the birds, the playing kids have gone, taking their loudness with them. In her stroller Little Bit is nodding off, still far removed from that threshold between the play of youngsters and the want to grow up quickly. I can only hope she won't have it too hard.
Even for me the walk is interesting. I observe playing kids, other walkers and strollers. The kids are playing an elaborate game where they nail something to a tree. Or pretend to nail it there. They even scavenged a shopping cart somewhere. Are they playing homeless?
Another group assaults the door of the local community centre. I can throw my disapproving teacherly glance their way. They don't notice and go on shouting obscenities and hammering on a closed door. This too can only be an almost real game by soon-to-be teens.
When we return from the playground and the birds, the playing kids have gone, taking their loudness with them. In her stroller Little Bit is nodding off, still far removed from that threshold between the play of youngsters and the want to grow up quickly. I can only hope she won't have it too hard.