Spinner

It’s been years since children’s playgrounds were a familiar stomping-ground for me but I’m rediscovering them.  Admittedly, with S not even crawling yet, it’s a little premature on her account but our friend’s little girl has enough energy to power a medium-sized town during the kettle-boiling halftime break of an England game.  And it was a windy Autumn day.  I’m not sure that it’s ever been scientifically explained but windy days make children very excitable.  They make me a bit giddy too. 

We subject S to our ‘Bit of Fresh Air’ ritual every day.  Come rain or shine.  She likes watching the trees.  Today was particularly exciting with the branches bent double, leaves smacking into us like the slap of a duelling glove and the pram tossing dangerously as storm force gales lashed across the grass.  While the rest of the party roped itself together for safety, I took little Olivia by the hand and with her flying behind me like a human kite in mittens, went in search of the swings and slides.

When I was a three year old, as I trudged from my shift down the mine to the day’s first chimney, I’d sometimes peer enviously at the local park with its wondrous sliding contraption and marvellous swinging chair and dream of a better life.  Nothing could have prepared me though for the hi-tech and surprisingly fun-looking set of apparatus in this play area.  And in direct contrast to almost everything else sophisticated and modern, this stuff was robust enough for kids to actually play with it.  So I did. 

There was a wobbly thing.  A clambering climbing frame.  A wavy wheeled thing.  A device that swings.  And a spinning spinny twirling spinning spinny spinner.  That might make an adult go green and feel sick for the rest of the afternoon.  And makes the sheltering children laugh.

Comments

[Mrs RW]

This time next year I want to see a picture of you and S on the spinny-spinning thingy.

[Carlton]

Don't you worry! It won't be that long!