Tuesday 16th August 2016
Having JiaJiâ Dôra’s pair of hands here with us means trips to malls and adventures on the metro are not so harrowing for me, as these toddler days Kingsley more and more rejects his stroller preferring running wildly ahead and investigating the working mechanics of potentially dangerous machines such as lifts, electric walkways and escalators. Mum’s heart beats fast then clutching at her chest yells at him to STOP each time her grandson threatens to catapult over a banister or when he sticks his little fingers into tiny holes (of large operating machinery).
I am forever calling his name loudly. People stare at us when out because we are madly gesturing and yelling in Greek. It’s us adults who are quizzed by strangers’ stares (gauche people, they must think); Kingsley, on the other hand, receives praise and compliments on his curious nature (cute! they declare). Mum and I don’t feel cute or gauche at all when our boy runs toward an open door to a closing lift. All we feel is fear.
Yesterday mum noted a grey streak in my unkempt hair; that I had ‘better do something about that what with a handsome husband like Erroll…’ She got the death stare from me and an earful. As if I don’t see the maintenance required! However today, on our seemingly simple grocery trip to Deira City Center, she backed away from chastising me for my lack of personal grooming, for she experienced yet again the hair raising I go through each time we step out. I grow greyer by the day with this one our mini Olympian…