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Jack Transforms before our very eyes in 32 degree heat. Winnipeg, MB; August 2017. |
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A very little lady who I liked immediately upon introduction. Avery captured in Winnipeg, MB; August 2017. |
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Rusty flies his kite from Jack. Winnipeg, MB; August 2017 |
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Airborne kite and a boy who is pleased as punch. |
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Bernie observes Jack at the wheel of the clown car. |
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A relaxed, handsome young fellow called Reuben. |
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This 12 week old wonder babe takes in the high arc of summer from his pram. |
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Portrait of two souls at ease with the other, Crystal and Reuben. |
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Ruby and his Tante Crust. |
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Young Bernie cools off in shallow waters on Burnell Street, a lovely street in Winnipeg, MB; August 2017. |
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I have been spending a good deal of my summer hours in the company of little children by the looks of this photo essay titled "Transformers"! No complaints there. Rich times. Today I got paid to clomp around in my wooden sandals at the Tot Lot pretending I was Bernie's imaginary (and very lucky) yellow No. 7 Racehorse called Dench. Dench (as in Judi?); gender unknown and totally beside the point. Bernie is three and three quarters going on 27. The other day Berndog, his young sister Carys and I were cruising along St. Matthews Ave. when Bernie skidded to a stop on his balance bike in front of a large hole in the street. "How on earth did you get down there?" he asked the man standing in the hole in his high-vis gear wrenching on a giant sewer pipe. The man's head sprang up from his work like a coil, shocked by the sudden pitch and cadence of the a boy's voice interrupting his solitude. "I jumped" the man responded. Bernie asked him how he intended to get out and the man responded with a gruff "I will climb". I could tell that conversation had run it's course so we moved along. For the entire way home, Bernie considered aloud every possible option for the entrance and exit of such a deep hole.
We both agreed that his best way in was to slide (obviously) and his best exit stratedgy was to jump on Dench's back, hold on for dear life and leap together. Mercy me this child is a wingnut who I am easily entertained by. If I should become a mother in this lifetime, I will be well equipped for my child's sensitive period to WHY. "Why did you say that Miss Meg?". If I had a bloody dime for each time I was faced with this question Monday through Friday, I would be long cruising in the Subaru Outback that I cannot afford at present. I spend a great deal of my daytime either laughing with (and a lot of the times at) Bernie or completely flabbergasted by what comes out of his mouth from the back pockets of his young mind.
Caregivers, write down your child's stories. When I reread the various accounts and anecdotes observed and recorded in the journal I have kept over the past couple of weeks for Bernie and Carys' parents, I can't help but laugh each time I reflect. I find the entries that tell of funny things that come out of their mouths especially helpful during those dark hours where I am ready to launch out of a high window because no one has napped and the dog is in my way and there is underwear on the ceiling and a banana stuck to my leg. These are the days of my life! Always the nanny, never the mom. Has it's perks. I get to go home alone and smoke a pipe in the bathtub.
When I pulled that roll containing the image of my cousin Sara's boy Jack clad in his 100% polyester Transformers suit captured on a hot ass Friday morning in August, I had to freakin' laugh. Kids. So cool and weird and free. I like them. Here are some faces I have recorded in the last two weeks.
Adios.
MARG-A-RITA
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