Monday, January 30, 2012


It is 9am and I am already back from the playground because a 1 bedroom apartment gets boring for a 14 month old after an hour or so, so diversionary tactics must be implemented.
So, off we went to the park, Dad and mum with homemade coffees in hand (saving ourselves $7 a day people) and unsurprisingly we were the only people there.
Or were we?
Q headed straight for something far above her skill level and as I followed her to avoid a trip to the hospital I noticed a little girl a couple of years older than Q sitting quietly on the park bench while her mother sat next to her.
With her headphones in.
Talking on the phone.
And texting.
While her daughter sat still and silent beside her.
(I am reasonably assured it was her mother and not her nanny by their interaction and the big arse diamond ring I could see glinting in the early sunlight).
So, seeing us, this little girl hopped off the bench and wandered over to Q and I because - I suspect - she was bored.
This forced the mother off the bench to retrieve said daughter, take her promptly to the swings, strap her in and proceed to push her with one hand while continuing to text and talk with the other.
Now, dear reader, you may argue that clearly it was I not paying attention to my daughter because I was so consumed by somebody else’s, and you’d be right, so I left my daughter with her father and came home, full of righteous indignation, itching to write this blog.
I had planned to write about something else entirely.
I had planned to tell you the story of a dear friend of mine, who was explaining the finer points of the tale The Emperor’s Pyjamas.
Remember the one? He gets tricked into thinking he’s wearing clothes but is actually walking around naked instead.
‘It would be like if I walked down the street in my underpants,’ says my friend to her young daughter. ‘What do you think people would do if they saw that?’
‘They would cry,’ her daughter replies earnestly, and all I can think is, that other little girl’s mother would never hear such a witty response because she’d be on the phone.
Hear endeth the rant.

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