You know how it is when you tell a child you’ll do something with them when you get home, and then when you get home you realise it’s just not possible. And you realise, by looking at their sad little face, how disappointed they are. So you promise with all your heart they can take their bike around to the vacant carpark in the morning and ride to their heart’s content (which is a lot of riding, by the way). Then when you get up in the morning it’s pouring with rain. Like, pouring. And the heavens are still letting loose at two thirty in the afternoon, and now you have a very sad little boy on your hands, because he’s still waiting for you to make good on your promise. What is there left to do but grab the bike helmet and a couple of umbrellas, ignore the voice of your hair cursing you, and do what it takes to keep your boy happy. And because you’re still so incredibly proud of his newly found ability to ride without training wheels, and slightly obsessed with photographing every moment of their lives (or so the kids would say), you grab your camera on the way out.
In the end everyone’s happy. Your son gets to ride to his heart’s content, you get your photo, and your daughter gets to prance up the street, pink frilly umbrella in hand, like Mary Poppins on speed.
And because in your mind your daughter deserves her own photo, even though she screams at you every time she hears you remove the lens cap, you let her grab you by the wrist and spin you round and round and round and round and round. Despite the fact that your sense of balance had been shot ever since you were pregnant with her and doing so makes you feel incredibly sick for the next hour, you do this just so she smiles for you. She actually squeals with delight and you almost forget to take the photo you’re so happy to hear that sound. But then you click while you have the chance, and you have two perfect reminders of a rainy afternoon, when you got soaking wet and sick as a dog just so your children know they can take you at your word.
Narrelle x