Friday, 19 April 2013

Plane Spotting

"Lay!!!" shouts Brendan, almost falling over himself as he comes to an abrupt stop in the middle of the zebra crossing. He's pointing to the sky.  "LAY, LAY," he screams in delight while I manhandle him to the pavement.

I crane my head upwards while he jumps up and down, his finger pointing desperately.  "LAY, LAY, LAAAAAYYYY!!!!"

At last I see the plane, its tiny fuselage glistening in the distance, a small shape in the sky that his hawk-eye spotted easily.  If he wants to be a pilot one day, I'm pretty sure he'll pass with twenty twenty vision.

We continue towards the park:

"Dar!" He points at a car.

"Dar!" He points at another car.

"Axi!" He points at a taxi.

"Dar!" He points at a bus.

My son, who can tell the difference between a car and a taxi, but not between a car and a bus. I smile.

I pop him in the swing and start to push.

"Loon!!!" He exclaims.  I look around trying to figure out what he's telling me.

"LOON!!!"  He looks at me for confirmation. I'm stumped.

And then I see a crescent in the sky, the thin sliver that I showed him the day before.

"Moon," I say. "Yes, that's the moon. Well done Brendan."

We carry on swinging and I see a group of teenage boys just outside the playground. One spits.  Another has his hands in his pants cupping his privates.

I look back at my son and wish he could be this age forever.