I like walls. Here is a brick wall. I liked the colour and texture, so I took this photograph. But you know what? I don’t want to talk about that today; I want to talk about something far more wonderful.
Occasionally life affords us brief moments that remind us what a joy it is to be alive. It may be little more than the plainness of a budding flower, a particularly striking sunrise or a handsome woman heaving a load of washing upon her breast in Békéscsaba. It could even be a pock-marked red brick wall on your way to work! Or, it may be something far more important, like witnessing the birth of your first child or seeing a valiant three-legged dog risking its life saving a burning baby from a flooded building.
This morning, I was fortunate enough to observe one such beautiful scene.
Standing in line at the food market this morning with my tub of Tamar Valley Tasmanian Premium All Natural Creamy Honey Yogurt (500 grams for just $2.99!), I was behind a mother and her young daughter. I would guess this child’s age at perhaps seven – at a maximum I will allow for nine – but I will be honest with you, once a kiddie moves beyond the 65 kilogram mark (143 lb for those hamstrung by decidedly inferior systems of weights and measures), I struggle to pick ages. If they are tremendously obese, I struggle to pick them as human at all! Reaching for a point of comparison that may mean something to people, this little angel looked like Cartman when he let himself go in that ‘beefcake’ episode all those years ago.
Nonetheless, I’m standing behind these two, and the little one (HA!) pipes up and informs mother that she hasn’t had any breakfast today (I myself was sceptical of this). Mother relents and says to the little one that she should choose something for the breakfast, and that she can consume it in the car. So the little one waddles off to find something deliciously wholesome (the establishment we were in has a wide selection of bagels, rolls, salad, plenty of fruit and veg, the typical deli fare). Of course, I am delighted that I have the opportunity to wait while she decides. Eventually, she heaves herself back to the counter – wheezing no less, the fifteen metre hike proving too much I fear – having chosen two Magical Elves (think Bertie Beetle on an acid trip) and a large can of Red Bull, an excellent start for the day. Sagely though, Mother spots something untoward about this selection, and asks with some menace, “is that all you're having?” Wisely, she shakes her head and throws in another Magical Elf for good measure. Just the trick!
Jennifer, looks like you have some stiff competition for this round of Mother of the Year!
Comments
Sad story about mom and daughter. Very sad.
Sigh
I just can't get over it.
You're such a good storyteller too... your story about going fishing with your brother was an amazing. Certainly one that would deter me from ever touching a rod again too, if I were you!
Put simple it is child abuse!!!!
i cannot believe that this sort of thing happens in an informed world
i blog about food issues in my town - i must remember to use this one in an up-and-coming post
i'm reading this in the morning, and already i feel ill...
@Jim: the government may be paying for her doctor's visits later in life, but you'll be the one paying the government to pay her.
@Jules: you got it right - child abuse by the child's own parents
A study of 30 university students aged between 20 and 24 years old found that drinking just one 250ml sugar-free can of the caffeinated energy drink increased the “stickiness” of the blood and raised the risk of blood clots forming.
Using tests to measure blood pressure and the state of blood vessels around the body, the Australian researchers said that after drinking one can participants had shown a cardiovascular profile similar to that of someone with heart disease.
It is unbelievable how parents cannot see the harm they doing to their own children by feeding them everything which fits in a package or in a can: sugar, fat, whatever is bad for the health, especially in the growing age. It will indeed be the taxpayers who will pay her doctor's bills when she grows up, if she reaches the adult age!
There is the headline ... I think if teachers really left the kids alone ... in most cases it would be no good.
Then there is the photo that seems to have nothing to do with the headline and the text - but ... is wonderful. Me too, I like walls and bricks and such stuff.
Well - and the rest: ???
Why did I think that living over there in what seems to me a healthier environment that people would be slimmer and healthier?
:-/
Or perhaps it was my excellent photo of the wall?
Jim, she may not make it that far, sadly.
Blackie, I love KFC chips, but it is not for the wee ones. Fat legged children disturb me.
I would be willing to kill somebody for a t-shirt that said ‘Fanny Pop’ on it. If little Phoebe is not waring that dress to Henry’s birthday party, he will be surely devastated.
Magiceye, death by Magic Elves, a tragedy whichever way you look at it.
Nathalie, I have seen them there before. I was even more appalled the time she bought a four or five year old boy TWO cans of Red Bull for his school lunch.
And yes, I have avoided fishing from that point onwards.
Jules, one can find amusement in life’s harsher moments. One must. I have seen and heard far worse, unfortunately. I do agree that this does amount to child abuse.
Kiwi, sick indeed, on a number of levels. I am appalled by the rate of Red Bull consumption in everyday life, by people of all ages. A vile product, make no bones about it. A stiff orange and pineapple juice with a hint of lemon would do far more benefit to the tired than some sugary sticky garbage.
Per, it is difficult to know whether one can do anything in that situation. I did proffer a look of disgust, but sometimes fear that this does more harm than good.
Miles, silver? All that means is that you’re simply the first of the losers. At 147 kilos, do you really need confirmation of that fact?
Blognote, even worse when in the very same place she could have bought an apple, pear, orange, kiwi fruit and bottle of water and actually saved money!
April, thinking is good.
The headline came from the picture. It is a reference to Pink Floyd’s The Wall, and I will admit that I did pick it initially independent of the text.
Now, that song itself (The Wall (Part II)) is essentially an objection to the rigidity of schooling in general (and boarding schools in particular), and a broader critique of the alienating tendency of such schools. Naturally, the opposite of this is to eliminate all responsibility of schools to ‘construct’ citizens, and leave it solely at the discretion on parents.
The tale I present above obviously highlights that not all individuals are as competent/able/willing to ‘properly’ raise children, and perhaps (as you indicate) schools remain to have their place in the construction of the agent.
That said though, personally, I constantly bemoan the fact that many parents (and non-parents) project their entire child raising responsibilities onto teachers (regarding social attitudes, manners, diet, exercise, discipline, as well as most facets of advancing their intellectual capacities), while at the same time bemoan the loss of autonomy. Teachers and schools, like individuals, come with all sorts of capacities.
It is not the first time that society (and subsequently, people) frustrate and annoy me. Dare I say it; it will not be the last!
Kitty, I think that we have the extremes here. Lots of fit, active kiddies, but also no shortage of obese, depressed kiddies.