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"Hi
Mum, I left your present in Ian's car when he gave me a lift home last night.
But I did get this cool card." Well, it is the thought that counts I
console myself, whilst tearing open said envelope with serenely smiling, good
grace.
On the cover is a cartoon kitten, stuck on a decidedly high tree branch, head thrown back, voicing an undoubtedly earsplitting "Mum!" I chuckled in recognition and hugged the culprit.
Later, when packing up after the day's jollification with extended family, I appreciated the simplicity of this card yet again. Yes it was a good thought. It's nice to know they will always need you, or is it that you can always be relied upon. Armed with a well-earned chardonnay, I sat down to ponder why this comic card seemed to hold such deep meaning.
Why, I asked myself in that moment when the brain sends a "danger - this situation is now beyond your control" signal to the child's brain; without thought of how or who is best qualified to bring this developing catastrophe to a successful conclusion, what prompts said child to send out their help plea to Mum. My musings led me to the following conclusions.
1. The child emits the primordial wail for assistance on a frequency received by all, but read particularly well by its intended recipient, no matter where she is located or what she is engaged upon. It is punctuated with a sense of urgency and assurance in a positive response and ultimate outcome. This begs the question, is it by habit or instinct, in much the same way as the old "which comes first" chicken or the egg theory.
2. Despite whatever she is doing or wherever she is, Mum will stop and drop everything and make all haste to child's side. This time, it's the whole "Ain't no mountain high enough … to keep me from you" scenario.
3. Before departure she will probably give voice to suitable responses along the lines of: "What Now!", "Oh, for goodness' sake" or "Excuse me Your Holiness, one of my children is in a spot of bother and I must dash."
4. Upon arrival she will utter instinctive observations such as: "What do you expect me to do about it?", "What in heaven's name were you doing?" and "Where did I put the ladder?" Born problem solvers, these expressions of exasperation are designed to provide a microsecond of breathing space in which the mother must assess the situation, draw conclusions and commence an immediate course of sensible action. In pursuit of her unquestionable duty to restore health and safety she will maintain an outward face of determined yet calm concern whilst inwardly battling the gamut of emotions ranging from semi to total panic, confusion, disbelief, abject terror, inexplicable annoyance and, on rare occasions, amusement.
5. Once order is restored, possibly on the way to the inevitable emergency room, she will soothe the child with tender expressions of concern, gently crooned just decibels below a shout: "You should have known better", "For goodness' sake! Don't do it again" and "Come here and let me hug you until neither of us can breathe and I will protect you from all future real and imagined risks."
It is ridiculous to suppose that in pursuit of my own personal quest to shield my precious children from the burgeoning scenarios of my creatively, overprotective mind that I will always be successful.
And yet, when the spaceship sent to explore the surface of the moon, upon which they are passengers fails to relaunch on its way back to earth; even before the thought leaves their mind, whether from instinct or habit, first on the scene clad in jetpack-propelled spacesuit will be Mum.
Yes, as they greet me with complete and relieved confidence, with no previous experience of aeronautics whatsoever, I will launch myself into the fray. And when all attempts to repair the capsule fail, I will push the thing the necessary kilometers till it finally jumpstarts or we reach home, whichever comes first.
Too far-fetched you think? Well, as I said, it is the thought that counts.