Kids

Only two encounters stood out last night, both related to babies, toddlers to be exact. Though another passenger, a young woman from Denmark expounded on the respective qualities of Sydney and Melbourne but you’ve heard all that before.

Early in the shift a thirty-something fella climbed in for the City. I asked him, ‘Big night ?’. ‘ I’m off to a mate’s bucks night’, he replied. ‘Sounds dangerous’, I laughed. ‘Up to the Cross at midnight, home by dawn ?’. ‘Not for me’, he said. ‘I’ve got a young daughter and want to be home by midnight’. She was his first child, sixteen months old.

He then rang his wife and had a brief conversation checking on the daughter. ‘It’s weird’, he then told me. ‘I stayed home as late as possible to feed the girl, bath her and get her into bed. But now I’m gone she’s yelling the house down and refusing to sleep’. ‘Don’t worry about it’, I offered, ‘your wife’s there’. ‘Yeah’, he moaned, ‘but I feel bad for leaving them alone. And later my single mates will give me a hard time for leaving early. Sometimes you can’t win’. To me, this sounded like real love.

Shortly after I took a radio booking at an inner-city address. Whilst waiting opposite the open front door I noticed a toddler, a girl around eighteen months old sitting on the floor inside the screen door. The terrace was elevated and close to the building line, affording the child a clear view of the street. She sat motionless staring at me with that dopey expression common to toddlers confronted with new scenery. Mesmerised by my flashing orange roof lights.

As it was still twilight I easily caught her eye by slowly raising a hand and effecting a silly wave, the sort reserved for babies. Recognising my gesture her expression changed and she suddenly beamed and tittered. On repeating my wave she giggled and gave two excited claps with her hands, twirling around looking for mum. We repeated the routine for a minute or so with her giggling gleefully at my waving and silly faces.

It was a delightful interlude where life was briefly suspended; passengers, traffic, radio, all disappeared for some momentary play with a little kid. As it should. So when the father snatched her off the floor allowing his wife to exit the door, I was catapulted back to the reality of an approaching passenger.

Fortunately mum sat in the back chatting on the phone, leaving me undisturbed to savour a surprising ray of sunshine, easily recalled later during an otherwise dull shift.

Comments

[TheDailyMagnet]

I know that feeling - those interludes from reality come all too infrequently.

Little ones are so cute when you don't have to put up with them 24-7 ;}}

[Kellie]

That's lovely Adrian.

I bought a book the other day that included the quote, "When a child is born, so is a father." To me, it sums up the beauty of that transformation - from just 'one of the boys' to a man. A very happy thing indeed.

[PQ]

Lovely story, Adrian. Brought a silly smile to my face.

You have a real knack of capturing these moments of daily life that place your reader there alongside you to share the moment.

Write a book, FFS.

[Jo]

Glad to hear you had some fun, nothing better than seeing and hearing a baby giggle.

:-)

[Lee]

Yep...you brought a smile to my face with your post, too, Adrian...lovely. :)

[Walter]

Nice post Adrian. Sometimes a good moment will perk your day right up.

[Mack]

It's amazing these moments seem to happened around us everyday yet most of us don't notice. I think your ability to notice them amongst the turbulance of your work no doubt keeps you smiling day to day. The fact that you remembered it and passed it on has made many smile, like myself. Thankyou