Today Lillian left for a short trip to Taiwan, with Mummy and grandparents (Jennivine and Ray).
We woke her up at 3.45 AM so we could make it to the airport by 4.30. But she was very happy and cooperative – probably because of the excitement of the big trip in the airplane.
When we arrived at the airport, Jennivine and Ray were there waiting at kerbside. I unloaded a suitcase, and Lillian gave me a huge hug. As usual, everyones’ attention was glued on Lillian.
Which partly explains how I managed to drive off completely oblivious to the fact that Lillian’s bag was in the back seat.
As I arrived home, I head the phone ringing…. a quick turn-around, back to the airport. Fortunately at that time of the morning it only takes 10-15 minutes. The bag was delivered in plenty of time.
We opened a little box of chocolates, and each had one. I put the box, with a few left in it, on the kitchen bench, supposedly out of Lillian’s sight and reach.
Later as I came into the kitchen, I saw Lillian scurrying away, exuding mischief in every move, and hiding a chocolate in her little fist.
She watched carefully as I put the box on the shelf above the refrigerator. Surely, I thought, they would be safe there.
When we next returned to the kitchen, we found her blue potty box by the fridge. On top of that, balancing quite stably, was her white wooden dining chair. Lillian was nowhere to be seen.
But on the shelf, the box of chocolates was empty…
One day at Granny Helen’s place, Albert and Ivana dropped around with their boy Nicholas, who is about Lillian’s age.
Lillian took him to the bedroom, put him in the bed (taking off his shoes first), and then read him The Very Hungry Caterpillar
Posing behind flowers she picked and arranged:
We were riding around the lake in Canberra – Daddy and Mummy on the tandem, Lillian on the tag-along behind us. It was late on a warm summer day. Suddenly our rear rim was bumping along the pavement – we had a flat tire. We stopped, and I started to repair the flat. Lillian wandered off looking for interesting things in the grass.
I looked around, and about twenty yards away Lillian was standing in the middle of a large flat ants nest, stamping her feet. The nest was alive with thousands of furious ants. Some were climbing over her feet and biting.
Recently, Lillian had gotten into the habit of crushing large ants by stepping on them whenever she saw them. But she didn’t know about large ant nests like the ones which are very common around Canberra. She had wandered onto the nest, seen a few ants, and started stomping, unaware that this would rouse the nest in a fury.
I rushed over, swept her up off the nest, and started brushing ants off her legs. She was a little bit traumatised by the event; she stayed crying in my arms for about a minute or so, then she was OK.
Probably, before long, she’ll be stomping on ant nests just for fun, to see the ants rush around like crazy, just like Daddy used to do when he was a kid.
We’re leaving child care. Lillian’s t-shirt has a pelican on it. We stop by at the front office, where kids can pick up a small round sticker as they depart.
“Look, this sticker is a pelican, just like on my shirt.”
“But this one has a frog in its mouth, and the one on my shirt has a fish!”
I found that I was fitted for nothing so well as for the study of Truth; as having a mind nimble and versatile enough to catch the resemblances of things, and at the same time steady enough to fix and distinguish their subtler differences…
Francis Bacon, 1605
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It is almost 8.00 am.
“Lillian, time to get dressed, the man is going to come soon to fix our door.”
“Is it broken?”
“No… we’re going to put bars on the door so we can let the wind come in.”
“But the flies will come in!”
“Well, no, the door will have flyscreen…”
“Are you going to let the wind come in with the flies?”
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