Imagine climbing the tower on a cathedral or even a church spire. You would not do it, even if at the top there would be a five star menu waiting with all the trimmings, enough to eat for a day or two? You would not do it – too dangerous, you might evene lose your life if making a wrong step and tumble, being a squashed body on the ground. People would summon an ambulance, the police would arrive on the scene and your family would be informed that Fred died in the attempt to find food at the top of a tower. It would be a story in the newspaper “Did you see what happened to Fred, he climbed the tower in town and fell” “Why?” “I heard he was hungry and there was a laid table with food at the top of the tower”. Crazy really, a human risking his life for something to eat, and all he had to do was go to the supermarket and buy something. Ok, he would have to prepare it himself, but no problem. He would definitely not die of hunger in the meanwhile.
And so our firebug awakes in the garden and is hungry. It is small, a miniature Fred, but the firebug has no supermarket to buy what he wants. He has to climb his tower often to reach his goal, a full meal of seeds enclosed in a capsule. He has many favourites, is not particular about the shape and size, it just has to be a seed. In this case he has discovered his tower with hollyhock seed capsules. He knows they contain a good meal and he is sure footed. Have you ever seen a dead firebug laying in a crumpled heap at the base of a stem bearing seeds, after losing his balance. Of course not, he is not a mini human, but a proud Firebug. there will be no story in the newspaper about our Firebug stealing seeds, he is not important enough. He lives in his minature world with other firebugs, munching his seeds and doing no harm. Our firebug climbs his towers daily. His miniature life is his reality.
On the other hand the kids of our generation are being trained to get everything in miniature. What mum does on her daily housework, the kids have to do as well. In the supermarket you are already being bothered by the kids pushing their miniature trolleys, filing them with goods, just like mum does. The difference is that mum is glad when she has everything and pays at the cash desk. The children have discovered a new adventure. Of course it is a good prepration to learn how to become a grown-up, a study in shopping made perfect. Unfortunately they are not my kids, otherwise I might have more understanding when they are in front of the diary product refrigerator blocking any opportunity to just take a liter of milk or a piece of cheese. Children come seldom alone, they have brothers and sisters and so the miniature trolley appear two-fold. This makes it all the more interesting when Johnny and Jean decide to also turn the supermarket into a race trace with their mini trolleys. And mum: she looks on probably proud that her children are already learning to be grown-ups.
Unfortunately the golden oldies amongst us are made uncertain by these escapades, wondering if the offspring are going to move to one side to allow you to pass, or whether they regard you as a further obstacle or victim in the trolley circuit, to be pushed to one side with perhaps a stifled “excusez (sorry)” if you are lucky.
I am glad my children are now grown and independent, but one day there might/will be grandchildren. Must have a word with my son and daughter-in-law about future mini shoppers in the supermarket.