Reality Check

One never really knows how others perceive them.

Whilst working at my new, soon-to-be-lived-in place at Conifer Grove last week one of the resident neighbours living to one side of my property came a calling to introduce himself and his son.

My property is at the end of a short cul-de-sac which has the advantage of a good deal of circular sealed roadway in front of the property which even has a central parking area in the turn around point which creates a perfect play area in the street for young boys and footballs.

I had seen my neighbours son, who would be about eleven years old, playing with his football in the street during the school holiday days, with another young lad who appeared to also live in a property on the other side of the round about.

Seeing these lads play in the street, with balls big and small, using it as a running circuit and general play area was both entertaining and reassuring.  Entertaining as some of their conversation were loud and were bemusing in their content.  And reassuring because it showed that despite the general trend, there are still some streets in Auckland that have some children enjoying real play and outdoors.   And also reassuring that not all children find it necessary to be entertained at all times by indoor games of the electronic kind. 

It was nice to have the neighbour call and introduce himself and his son and we had a short conversation regarding who the other young boy was that was his son's friend.

Thus, each day I was working around my property I would pause and enjoy watching the boys play and whenever the ball came flying over the fence to my property the lads would run across, apologise for their directionally challenged kicks and they would retrieve said ball and continue with their game.

    

Late in the afternoon one day last week I was gardening in my front yard when the boys arrived home from school and within ten minutes were back out in the street kicking their football around.  On this afternoon they were joined by another young lad.  This third boy I had not seen before and within a few minutes he came up and introduced himself, told me his name, spelled it for me without my asking, and informed me he lived in the next street and often came to play with his mates.

Was somewhat charmed by this lad's open chattiness and his wanting to make a point of introducing himself - an unusual characteristic in city kids of this era who generally seem fully disinterested in anyone other than their peers.  What a delightful, smart kid, I thought to myself.

Their game of football and point scoring became very animated, loud and enjoyable, for them and for me as I continued with my weeding in the front garden and listening to their fun.

Inevitably the ball was kicked in my direction, landing close to, or almost on myself where I was on all fours pulling at weeds. They would apologise each time for the nuisance, I would pick the ball up and toss it back and we would all continue on with what we were doing.

After the third time of this happening the chatty, new lad heaved a loud and animated sigh of exasperation over their inability to keep the ball within their play area.

"Hey you guys,"  he said, "stop kicking the ball over there, that old lady's trying to get her gardening done."

In that one instance, I realised, I had been given a personalised reality check.