LIFE/ CHILDHOOD

Magic In The Mundane 1. Two writers I respect and admire David Todd McCarty and  Chris Thompson Recently wrote about opening your eyes and seeing magic in the mundane. Yesterday, that’s exactly what I did. I needed a break from writing. I was on the prowl for new experience. I took an afternoon off to allow a two-year-old be the boss of me. My niece was scheduled to go to a kids' indoor playground in a nearby mall adjacent to my studio. It’s one of the areas written on my list "To Avoid". IKEA is on that list as well. It’s essentially any area where children below five will be happiest running around. And screaming. And potentially coughing. And rolling on the floor crying refusing to go home. 2. My brother, the father, called. "Could you come by The Parenthood, the indoor playground?" "Why?" "Play with Neeya." "Why?" "Because you could fit easily. You can climb up and go through the obstacles. We've gained weight." I agreed to go with the intention of backing out at the eleventh hour. I’m no angel. I’m the rebel aunt. The rebel aunt who also has a pedicure appointment, a slotted hour at the poolside, a session at the gym and a bit of writing to do on the same day. Rebel Aunt always has things to do, especially on her off day. Then I read the articles and decided, after the workout, poolside and pedicure, let's try something different. 3. My niece just turned two and I thought, this will be her birthday treat - my time at her office called The Parenthood. The dullest name ever conceived for a colorful place designed for children to play and go hyperactive bananas. It sounded more like a place to discuss fertilized eggs and collect semen samples. "Are you sure about this?" My assistant asked, looking doubtful. "Yes, and you're coming along. Suffer in tandem." I could hear the screams. The children at Parenthood, and from the inner voice of mine and my assistant. 4. "Is this place sanitary for COVID?" Rebel Aunt started her snooty ways. I saw a shelf of snacks and there were chips and chocolate cookies. "Are they mad, serving children these things? I don’t approve." I wrinkled my nose. My assistant Din was just as much. The girls at the counter handed him a pair of socks, mandatory at the playground. "Do you have this in any other color?" He asked them. "Sorry, just in yellow." "Oh dear. Not quite my color." I looked at the yellow feet and laughed. "You look like a clown. Bear with it for now I suppose. Just a few minutes and we can run off." Why the fuck are we doing here again? Oh yes, exploring the mundane. My niece saw me and instead of showering me with her usual hugs and kisses, proceeded to put on an air and parade herself. 5. I forgot, this is her office. She’s in charge now. I’m just a visitor on her planet. The haughty little snot. My niece in her toddling walk led me to her executive space with colored balls. "That’s right Neeya, all plastics. What happened to the Paris Summit discussion about reducing plastics and carbon emission? This is sheer hypocrisy. Toddler-washing." At the behest of a two-year-old / Photo author’s own With her puffy diaper and me in no makeup, we weren’t dressed to impress anyone. Not today. This is business. We’re here for serious talks on how to get up those steps where the bigger kids are. Neeya nudged me to go first. "That's right, Neeya. In the event the monsters come out I die first." 6. I climbed up and Neeya followed. I was impressed with my niece’s agility. She was brave. I wasn’t at her age. Not at all. According to my parents' testimony, even when guests came to visit at our house I’d belt out a good cry. I was one of the crying children at a playground. How embarrassing. I refuse to accept such a travesty of a story. Me? The terrified sobbing child? In typical two-year-old fashion, after I had successfully scaled the steps to reach the tunnel, Neeya overtook me trying to lead the way. "Don't start micromanaging now Neeya. Stick to your lane." She overtook me and darted to the end of the maze showing off how her tiny feet could manage the sponged boulders. With my size, I had to climb on top of things while Neeya showed me she could crawl underneath. Such limbering youth, she flashed at me. A shameless show off. 7. Asan aunt with low tolerance for toddlers (zero for strangers’ children), my niece was pretty impressive at The Parenthood (now dubbed The Hood). She reminded me — an adult — what being courageous is about. Each time she saw the bigger kids, she’d get up and walk towards them. They, of course, didn’t want to play with her because she was tiny. Yet, Neeya went up to them, despite getting rejected, persisted to play. She was unaffected being pushed aside, being roughed at, and being laughed at. She spoke to them in a language of her own, pointed here and there with her little digit, the same instrument used for singing “One Little Finger” and picking her nose, and proceeded to play. When she felt like it, my niece would sprawl on her back or on her belly, imagine she is a starfish and just be still. She knew when to relax and take a chill pill. Other kids came and went, yet she persisted like the kingdom belonged to her. 8. "Neeya, this isn’t home, you know," I told her matter-of-factly. She mumbled gibberish words that sounded to my adult ears like get off my land woman before I pillage your kingdom. I followed what she did while attempting to show her my flexibility. She was hardly impressed. She didn’t like the slides. After a few attempts avoiding them, I realized why — the slides take you to the bottom. It meant the end. It signified we had to climb all over again to get to the top. Neeya shook her head and proceeded to pass. We were already looking down. She liked being at the top. She was unafraid of heights and loved the thrill of ascension. "Neeya, you've potential to be a CEO." She showed me her diapered butt. 9. Imarveled at my niece’s adaptability. She was confident and acted as if she knew what she was doing, at every curve. There was no hesitation, no worried or doubtful look. I had to remind myself she just turned two. It takes a lot for an adult to reach her level of ease in such an open and public social setting. Breaking out of my own character, I rolled back and forth testing my youth. I raised my legs, rolled backwards recalling my days in school doing front rolls and stretching my limbs. As I curled and rocked into a few positions, I heard a familiar voice calling out to me, "What on earth are you doing sis? You’re 47 and confusing the 4 year-olds." 10. It was then I found myself uttering words of horror I never expected in my life, "This shit of a place is actually fun. Call me when you come here again." My assistant, who had been in hysterics the whole time watching me for over an hour commented, "By the way, I got everything on video. You can play it at your future wedding." Mundane it looked, enjoyment it felt. I’ll be back.