"Mommy, did you know that dinosaurs lived 245 million years ago and that they could be as long as 30 meters?". "No, I did not know that", I say what is absent. I'm cleaning up the cupboard and come across her 'Dino's Met Freek'. Daughter of 7 leaves her tidy job for what it is and grabs the book again. All pictures neatly pasted, all 140+. For weeks spared, swapped and stuck.
In her pink girl's box on her pink girls' room are books of dinosaurs, reptiles and "How do I recognize animal poop". The latter is useful because in the book of Freek there is a picture that smells like dinopoep (how do they know how dinopoep smells, I wonder, does someone have a pot of dinosaur soup, put his nose in it and said "Eureka! to make a picture and if you rub your finger on it, you can smell the daffodil! "). So now she can recognize and smell it. Always handy and fascinating ... right?
Dinos and fossils
Since a few years she is crazy about dinosaurs, fossils, stuffed animals, animal skeletons (ssssst, I recently thrown away her seagulls skull, in the Kliko, little bit stinking that thing) and mummified bodies (Danke, Dr Von Hagens ).
And here our roads separate themselves. Because I especially like dinosaurs he-le-times nothing. Dinos? Do me a favour. The last time I was in a Dinopark was at Cap D'agde in August, it was 35 degrees, I stuck from the sunburn and was punctured by mosquitoes. Le Dino's were a bunch of plastic creations that you could move yourself at the touch of a button. Et alz! Le T-Rex. Ehmnn, non merci, where can I get an ice cream? Not to mention the hellish pain when you step into your plastic feet on such a plastic Dino of the Action.
Lifeless bead eyes
In addition to my Dino phobia, stuffed animals give me itch. Those lifeless beady eyes that stare in the air give me stomach ache. I also do not like zoos. Monkeys stink, lions and gorillas I do not see 20 meters away and moreover, I now know what a penguin looks like (and yes, there too it stinks).
Mounted bodies? OK, I've seen the exhibition myself, in Las Vegas. I was just married and probably still with my head in a pink cloud. The only thing I remember is an embryo in a glass jar. Then we went to the Titantic exhibition. It was a very exciting day, that pink cloud created a happy feeling. Even though we looked at dead people and lists of drowned people. We washed the whole thing away with a large cola and XXXL hot dog.
A year later, our Dino mother came into the world. A girl! Oh nice, Barbies, My Little Ponies and pink frummels. Nein, nada, nothing more. Occasionally I watch with nostalgia for her Barbies, discarded, bitten and slumped they lie with amputated arms or legs and naked abdomen at the edge of the bath. I can not get over my heart to collect their limbs, dress them, brush their hairs and pass them on to a new Barbie mother. Just like Woody, Wendy and Stinky Pete, but without a ride in the incinerator.
Maybe put on Marktplaats? Good idea! Then I may feel less burdened that I have just paid 96 euros to see Freek Live. 96 euros for stuffed animals and dino stories. Oh well, maybe he still shows his sharks. Also something for the mothers, right?