Saturday, October 22, 2011

the past

Time flies and I have been unpacking, unpacking, unpacking boxes forever. Even though we have been on the other side of tummy mountain for a month now there are still many more boxes to go. The little ones love all these boxes - raw materials for time machines, spaceships, cubby houses.

The little ones are doing their wee things, but I have not been focused enough in my role as Tummy Mountain Official Chronicler to bring you an update on the momentous events in their lives. I am sure if there is an official inquiry I will be sacked for negligence and incompetence. But who would take my place? I am certain that not only is my role hereditary - it is also lifelong! I am afraid they will just have to put up with me.

And so instead - a tale of the past. Inspired by comments from the last post.

When I was as wee as Wee Small I was playing with my Lego in the lounge room. I had made a spaceship that was about a foot and a half long. Just the right size for deep space exploration under the command of the heroic Captain Kraarg. Admiring Lego citizens gathered at the launch pad as final preparations were being made. Even my mother came to watch, though she wasn't smiling and waving like the Lego citizens - in fact she looked quite angry. She squatted down to get a closer view, she picked up the spaceship, and then she hurled it into the high ceiling where it exploded! Scattering debris over the entire lounge room, and leaving a shattered fuselage stuck in the ceiling like some huge sick plastic insect, from which occasional pieces of Lego rained down.

Well that was a bit unexpected.

Being a small child I was a bit confused, but I had worked something out over the intervening seconds - I was in trouble - probably very big trouble.

Was it that the Lego had taken over the entire lounge room for a week?
Should I have contained Space Station Xaxxar to the corner of the room?
Had I been asked to clean it up?
I do not recall.

Even though I was very small I knew instinctively that this was not good and that I would be in even more trouble when my father got home, and that maybe right now was a good time to run away.

Nervously I looked up at my mother quivering with rage. She pointed the "don't even think about going anywhere" finger at me and stormed out of the room to get a broom to knock the stuck fuselage pieces down from the ceiling.

Seconds ticked by.

I stood still.

So many emotions coursing through me - scared, nervous, and also strangely elated at the most thrilling flight that any of my spaceships had ever made! And to a destination that none of them had ever been before! The Mysterious Planet Urgruggtheesh with Inverted Gravity - only a legend to the most seasoned space explorers, but now a reality because of Captain Kraarg's amazing piloting skills after unknown difficulties during take off. Sure, the spaceship was obliterated but Captain Kraarg was safe and hanging upside down in the wreckage, smiling.

My mother, purple with rage, re-entered the atmosphere of the lounge room. Now was probably not the time to mention how funny Captain Kraarg looked hanging upside-down from the ceiling. She used the broom to knock most of the rest of it down. Except for a few pieces that had gone into the plaster and had pushed a hole through the ceiling. Those bits had to be taken down by standing on a ladder - which my father did when he got home. He was not impressed and I was punished old school style even though it was not me that wrecked the ceiling. The injustice of life!

For many years afterwards we had a strange hole in the ceiling and very clear circular impressions of Lego in the plasterwork. A reminder of the past until one day as a teenager it was repaired and painted over becoming just a memory of the past.



Martha said...

I am a loss for words... but I can't help smiling at the thought of your mother hurling your spaceship into the ceiling...

Now I must go contemplate the story. Perhaps I shall have something wise to say later... but don't count on it. :)

Sherri said...

I am so confused. Did your mother throw the spaceship? Because it seems like she did the way it's written, but then why was she mad? Because you didn't build it well enough? Or did she throw it because she was mad?

TummyMountain said...

Oh she threw it, Sherri! She hurled it and smashed it leaving me at a loss for words, like Martha! I am certain construction technique had less of a bearing on the reason. I am thinking that Space Station Xaxxar taking up the entire lounge room may have been the reason. But who can say! Adults have bizarre reasons for doing things.

humel said...

I'm not showing this story to my The Children. They don't need to be mad to throw Lego around. (I often get mad because they throw Lego around, though.)

I'm much relieved to hear that the heroic Captain Kraarg survived the difficulties in take-off. What a story he had to tell once knocked back down from Urgruggtheesh!

Lizzie said...

Like Martha and Sherri, I am confused...
I take it your mother was not normally given to hurling your toys at the ceiling... so, like you, I suppose that you must have done/omitted to do something or other and she was annoyed.
Still... not quite the same as my mum appearing with a black bin-liner, to threaten that she'd throw away any toys that were not tidied up.
I do remember her actually carrying out this threat once... Which seemed, to us, just as incomprehensible as your spaceship throwing incident.
Grown-ups are, indeed, very strange people.

TummyMountain said...

Hi Humel, Captain Kraarg was honoured for his heroic journey, but sadly he never made it back to the Inverted Gravity Planet of Urgruggtheesh. He was heard to complain that he was not getting the same amount of force and acceleration on take-off. Now my own little ones play with all the same Lego, but they have not thrown any of it...yet...

Hi Lizzie, my mother was definitely not one to even play with the toys, so throwing them was quite unexpected. I added another line to the story to indicate she was angry when she threw the spaceship - but as to the real reason who knows - it always seemed to me as a child I was getting into trouble for incomprehensible reasons. I try to remember that feeling when I ask my own little ones to do something that from their perspective it doesn't make sense, or what they are imagining is very important - more important than a clean lounge room in my opinion.

Martha said...

Being at a loss for words is not quite the same as being confused, Lizzie. A-mused is a more accurate description of my condition.

(I can't help but wonder if your father found it just a little bit funny when he came home and was commandeered to pick Lego out of the ceiling... or perhaps your mother had difficulty in admitting it was actually she who flew the ship?)