Documentary Evidence.

One of our most effective methods of tidying up is no shove all non essentials in a box and stick it in the loft. It was working a treat till the loft filled up, so I decided on Monday I would reccy through some stuff and haul a load of junk off to the city tip.
So I crawled over and around broken fan heaters and fans, moldy carpets, dead futons, a drum kit, the usual crap and went in to attack some boxes.
One of the first boxes was packed to the brim with photos, so I immediately abandoned my plan, took the box downstairs and decided to spend the day reminiscing.

Now I presume, or I hope anyway, that my kids are not the only kids in the world that feel badly done by. I get that it is a natural kid thing to moan about how hard they have it, how other siblings are favoured, how they’ve suffered injustices, they’ve been neglected. Other kids in other families have it so much better than them. More freedoms, more pocket money, bigger, better, brighter shinier lives in general.
Sometimes it gets me down.
I feel The Man and I have gone out of way to make things great, to give them the best of both their cultures, to give them interesting and new experiences, to have childhoods packed to the brim with good childhood fun times.
They’ve had fish’n’ chips and steak pies, and curly wurlys and fingers of fudge. They’ve had kakigouri, tomorokoshi with shoyu, konnyaku on a stick and bottles of ramune.
We pull out all the stops for both Xmas and Oshougatsu, we throw beans against the demons , we’ve allowed February to be consumed with a Japanese counterfeit, hybrid version of Valentine’s Day. I could go on but I think you get the gist.

So I open up the huge cardboard box of photos and there it is, my proof, my evidence.
Hundreds upon hundreds of photos in glorious technicolour. Photos of birthday parties thrown, parties attended. Camping trips and amusement parks, zoos, BBQs and Hanami. Learning to ride bikes, playing catch, space hoppers, roller skates, skateboards, kickboards.
Children in Hong Kong, Thailand, Australia, the UK etc. Kids with kangaroos, riding elephants, on horseback. entrance ceremonies, graduation ceremonies, sports tournaments, dancing classes.
All of it celebrated, embraced, captured on kodak.

Lives, all our lives full, full full of moments deemed worthy enough to commit to print.
I know how lucky we are, how very very fortunate we have been, and one day, they’ll come across this box and see it for themselves too.

10 thoughts on “Documentary Evidence.

  1. That’s lovely. If it were my kids though they would count up exactly how many pictures feature them and if the number wasn’t exactly even…well you know.

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