Tuesday, 11 April 2017

This Ain't Your Daddy's Park

We are going to the park.

"But why are we going this way, Daddy?"

"Because this is the way to the park!"

"Which park?"

"The usual park. The park we go to."

"And where is that?"

"Up here, this way. The park is this way, and we are therefore going this way to the park!"

She thinks about this for a while with a wrinkled nose.

"I don't think I have been to this park," she asserts.

"We go there all the time!" I protest.

"What does it look like?" she challenges.

"It has the green picnic tables," I begin, maybe not alighting on the most memorable feature from a child's point of view.

"Picnic TABLES?" The horror! "I know what a picnic is. You eat it on a rug. On the GROUND!"

"Yes, good. Well, it has the net you climb on. And the little step thing where you put your feet on the tortoises and hedgehogs!"

"That is CRUEL!"

"No, they aren't real! There are the two blue cars, and the slide with the big wheel to turn like a pirate ship!"

She thinks.

"I have not been to this park."

"You have. Look, wait until we get there. You'll see!"

We get there. There are no picnic tables, nets, hedgehogs, cars or pirate wheels. All of the apparatus is different, but looks about a year old. Maybe it was Brother and Sister I brought here.

"You have not been to this park," I muse.

She agrees. It's still good, though. Must go again...

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