Bed Talk

I awoke a second or two before him. Just as I turned over to look at him he opened his eyes and smiled at me. He stretched out his arm and patted my hand.

“It was a great day yesterday,” he said, placing his hands together over his stomach.

“Yes it was. Rather tiring but great,” I responded.

“Those little girls were nice, weren’t they?” he asked in a rhetorical way.

“Lovely,” I answered although there was no real need to reply.

We knew already that we felt the same way about the girls but it was pleasant to talk about them and remember the highlights of the day before.

“Not like that nasty girl who pushed me off the whale!” he added.

“No,” I smiled to myself (we were both looking at the ceiling during our reveries), “not all children are nice – are they?”

The whale incident happened a few weeks ago in the play area at Wynnum seafront – the whales are large inanimate forms that spurt water randomly, and vigorously, at sometimes surprised children climbing over them (well, they know it’s coming but they don’t know exactly when!).

The happy, more recent, meeting with the sweet girls occurred by the slide at the wading pool on the other side of the fountain. Wearing my bright cerise swimming costume, and conscious of looking like a beacon whilst standing in the eight inches of water at the shallow end, I had opted to crawl around in the water, councidentally putting myself at the same level as the children.

“What’s your name?” asked four-year-old Harper.

That was the beginning of our encounter with the nice girls, Harper and her sister Lily, aged six. Mason, now four years old, wasn’t ready to embark on slide adventures like the girls but we were a good audience and sometimes clapped, especially at extraordinary feats such as head-first. We joined in at musical statues (minus the music) but drew a line at hide-and-seek! I told the children of my own misadventure in the same wading pool many years ago when I was two years old and was badly stung by jelly fish. I assured them that there were no jelly fish now, not since the six million dollar refurbishment a few years ago.

“No sharks then?” asked Lily.

“Or snakes?” added Mason.

“Or alligators?”  Harper added for the sake of humor.

We all laughed and I felt like I was back in grade one at primary school surrounded by my peers.

 

Back in bed (the following morning)…

“Let’s hope the girl who pushed you grows out of it,” I said, squeezing Mason’s hand. “What shall we do today? Do you like koalas?”

So we decided to go to the Koala Centre at Daisy Hill and later throw some water balloons.

 

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