Down with the kids

On Easter Monday, I was awoken first by Dog barking then by the cause of his barking – low flying hot air balloons (Big Sis pronounces ‘boon’). These are a regular event around our parts because there are parklands that green-out the whole page of the street directory near our house. Dog is just one member of a sophisticated network of canine intruder alarms first set off by the blast of the balloon’s burners as they skip across our rooftops with just enough hot air to keep them off the ground and airborne long enough to set-down near by.

Leisa suggests that I take the kids to watch them land. Like it was my own idea, I wrap up the kids, strap ‘em in and head off up valley and down dale with Big Sis and Little Bro in tow.

The set-down location changes with all the variables that only a balloon pilot could explain but it turned out to be a 10km+ distance. The pursuit was a treat in itself and was justified by the sight of 7 hot air balloons touching down gently with one of them drifting slowly only metres over the car to land within the city’s sporting oval precinct. The kids were delighted by the spectacle and were in no hurry to leave. Their willingness to watch each one highlighted the jaded adult perspective that it’s enough to watch one balloon land, deflate, pack-up, without having to audit each of them. But it wasn’t about me, was it?

Ultimately exercising my authority, we did a U-turn and headed for home. Big Sis disengaged from the initial entertainment and moved on to the next on her list of demands for the day: “We could go to Old McDonalds and get a small burger! We do that, then? Right now?” We’re not fast food nazis but we certainly discourage the association between junk food and the marketing campaign used to entice the kiddies – so I was quite taken aback by the request that I’d never heard from her before, let alone at 7:45am on a balloon pursuit. However, it occurred to me that she was lining up a similar fact scenario: early morning, on the road, half asleep, in PJ’s and dressing gown, seeing the sun come up, etc. This was a flashback to our marathon 5500km Christmas holiday drive from 4 months ago where we succumbed to the Sinister Clown as part of our drive to survive strategy. Now, if the Golden Arches could only package that mental conditioning – or have they?