WARNING: The following contains high levels of sentiment. Readers with a weak stomach and Desci may want to turn away and have a crack at the crossword.
The other day I had the honour of helping do the reading for the prep class at the school that The Boy attends.
I say “the honour” because, with perhaps one exception, they were the happiest, most cheerful little kids I’ve ever come across. They had about them so much spark, so much curiosity, so much energy that they were almost bursting out of their skins with joy.
Reading to them (or perhaps with them, as most of them were pretty much reading on their own) wasn’t a chore – it was a delight.
And this wasn’t some posh-o school in what the media delights in calling “Melbourne’s leafy eastern suburbs”, but a state government school in what was – until fairly recently – a solidly working class area (until lumpen- intelligentsia like myself blew in).
Happily, The Boy is still of an age where everything delights him. Witness this exchange on the weekend;
The Boy: “Daddaddaddad, come and look at Kitty!”
Out we go, to discover the cat having a dust bath.
The Boy: “Kitty’s having a bath!!”
Me: “Yes, Boy.”
The Boy: “In the dust!!”
Me: “Yes, Boy.”
The Boy: “In the dust!!!” *peals of hysterical laughter*
Kitty: “What! What? Stop laughing at me, you human cunts.”
All of which left me wondering, where does it all go? That joy, that wondrous sense of optimism that your day is going to be full of good things and good friends and excitement.
Fucked if I know.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
42 comments:
It goes once you discover girls.
And financial obligation.
...and becoming aware on one's own mortality.
"It goes once you discover girls"
I don't know Perseus. "It" ("That joy, that wondrous sense of optimism that your day is going to be full of good things and good friends and excitement.") arrived once I discovered girls.
The Boy has already discovered girls.
Not bad going for a five year old.
I don't know where it goes, all I know is it goes fast and soon. Make the most of it, Ramon. My two girls 13 and 12 have lost it, the 10 year old boy still has it. By his age the girls had pretty much lost it. It's puberty and the weight of the world that it brings. The door is opened from childhood into the adult world, and it's not a pretty place.
Thanks for that. Between you and Christian the bloody lion last night, I'm all moved.
my days are still full of joy and good things - but then I have nine cats.
They are always doing something cute. Just watching them take a dump is funny. Their back paws rise up off the ground from the pressure leaving them balanced on their front paws - like a very kinky male gymnist floor routine.
I'll tell you where it goes. The little sponges that they are, soak up all of our cynicism, our disillusionment and our bile. It's enough to make you sick.
Reality, kids! Stop being so fucking naive and innocent. Grow up quickly or the world will get ya.
...and become aware that life is pointless
My five year old skips to school. I don't remember how to skip but I know it takes a fair amount of joie de vivre
I've always wondered about skipping. And the way kids will run to the kitchen from the lounge room. Imagine an adult running around your house!
We just grow up is all. That's why one of our main jobs as parents is to preserve their innocence as long as we can. It's a beautiful thing.
Nice post Ramon. It made me feel good anyway.
I agree with Melba on this. My girls are 10 and 7. The age differnece is more obvious now that the eldest is exposed to the onset of puberty. She was in tears last week simply because her supposed best friend chose not to sit next to her in class as per usual and then laughed at her saying "why would I wanna sit near you?"
It breaks your heart when your child looks to you and asks "Why, why are people so mean?"
End of the innocence....
You know that corrugated plastic that people use on patios? It's called polycarbonate now but what did people used to call that stuff?
"Jim"?
Also, what colour is a body bag? I think it's orange but I'm not sure
Planning on disposing of a body, Squib?
No, I'm 9 poems short of a submission due end of May. Polycarbonate doesn't have that poetic ring to it
I'm having a meltdown here
Just call it "Jim" and be done with it.
It's not as though they fact-check poems.
Jim doesn't really work
Here ya go Squib
Thanks Catlick... maybe we called it fibreglass?
Indeed, and as the sheets de-natured in UV light, became opaque, and the fibers became exposed and collected gunk we achieved that brittle dirty fabric which adorns so many sheds and porches.
ah yes, thanks again!
You are indeed wise in the ways of fibreglass, Catlick.
That old tough and fibrous stuff produces crucial and translucent luminescence.
It may not be poetry, but it's top notch alliteration. One of my favourite things. That, and onomatopoeia of course.
It turns out fibreglass doesn't really work either
I'm going to call it 'corrugated green'
Lewd, I just finished a full on onomatopoeic one called 'suzuki violin'. God it's painful
"Corrugated Green is PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I'm so sorry.
I don't know what came over me.
It's an exciting moment. I might even skip
Squib, I'm with them. Call it Jim.
Squib could you work "green velour" into it? A velour that becomes corduroy when viewed from across the street?
Nah, call it Craig.
Anything but Christian. Shoot that fucken hearth rug.
call it Craig
Heretic!
I know it's a brand name rather than a ubiquitous term, but mostly I've heard it called laserlite.
How is it we're talking about fibreglass again?
Oh, that's right.
Squib!!!!
*Shakes fist in direction of Fremantle*
"It's called polycarbonate now but what did people used to call that stuff?"
Circa 1979, Me and Lewd Bob used to call it 'Matchbox Car racetrack'.
Multi-lanes!
Oh the memories.
The cars ran down a plank of wood, through some PVC piping, onto the corrugated fibreglass stuff and onwards to the finish line and glory.
Alsenite.
... where does it all go?It disappears with adulthood, paying bills, working and stuff.
I hear tell it returns when you hit old age. I can't wait until I'm a silly old bugger and can enforce my ridiculousness on my family and friends and get away with it because I'm geriatric. Those'll be some sweet days indeed.
Sigh. Way to make me clucky Ramon.
SD!
Where ya been?
I helped the preppies out in gym last week and they were all gorgeous. They sat patiently waiting their turn. They listened to the teacher. They behaved themselves.
My little lad goes to a state school as well and he's thriving.
The older kids can't wait to be in grade five, because then they get prep buddies.
It's like I've entered some strange zone where there is no such thing as cynicism or sarcasm. It's all a bit daggy and everyone is so adorable!
I agree with Homesick. I think the 'magic' goes when the hormones kick in.
Ramon! I've been plotting the downfall of Teh Zemiro between bouts of lurking.
This saddens me, SD, it really does.
Embrace the Zemiro, I say.
Embrace her!!
Post a Comment