#59 Storm inside, silence outside
The pleasant weather allows us to be outside for longer these days. Me and my son go out on strolls in the community. We have been at our current place for more than a year now. Some folks recognise us. They are nice to us and greet us. Despite our best efforts.
People tend to be familiar regardless of acquaintance; specially with the kids. When the kid is a toddler, you act as the representative. And, the inadvertent host to an approach.
In such incidents of an approach, I urge my kid to greet the other person. I know that he will not respond to the urge but I do - to acknowledge the person before us. I respond on his behalf. I also prompt him to repeat what I say. He does or doesn’t - at will. I envy the luxury. The luxury of doing your own thing which often means not listening to any other voice than your own.
People stop, ask, and move. Some persist. The interest is more than others. On a good day, the kid blesses us with a few words. On most days, I speak for him. I utter some fillers.
“He is shy”
“He talks a lot at home but he is quiet outside”
“He will get better at it”
I can see the point of these unnecessary statements and I understand the indifference of the kid towards this shallow conversation. He also recognises the partial truth in this. I am able to reconcile with his silence because I also know how this works.
Outside the house, the kid is an observer. He is consuming the environment under the garb of reticence. He is static among people and makes his moves when no one is around.
The kid is a different beast inside the home.
Home is where he unleashes his learnings. We have to wield our undivided attention to witness the demonstration of newly acquired words, sentences, poems, movements, and actions. When the attention is not undivided, there are deliberate noises.
We partake in this show of abilities to the limit of our endurance. When we can’t, we go outside.