The Toddler and the Sea

Mum told me a story over the weekend which I had never heard before, which I think succinctly summarises what sort of child I was, and what sort of an adult I have become.

When I was 4 years old, I accompanied my Mum, her friend and my brother (13 at the time) on a cruise over Christmas.

I have a few vague memories of this time, and a few more vivid home videos.

Memories include: using a Minnie Mouse lip gloss I was given for Christmas as perfume (I smeared it all over my ears and wrists) and being unable to properly align the cotton balls I was gluing onto a paper Santa Clause face in day care, and still thinking the finished product was the absolute tits.

Home movie evidence shows: requesting my stuffed Jemima Puddle Duck toy sing and dance for the camera, and becoming incensed when she did not. Taking over when Jemima would not co-operate and singing Christmas Carols myself in the hallways of the ship cabins, only to fall silent whenever somebody stopped to listen; and wearing a homemade ‘flower’ costume for a children’s dress-up parade, which I lost (because I looked more like a psychedelic lion than a flower).

This incident, thankfully, was not captured on film. It was recalled with near perfect clarity by my mother. 

My mum’s friend was a children’s clothing designer. She had constructed the psychedelic lion flower costume I mentioned earlier, and she had made me several dresses and bits and pieces which I was not always a fan of as a child. My personal 4 year old style had more a fluoro-pink-taffeta-shorts-or-nothing kind of attitude to it.  

Specifically for this cruise, in addition to a few other pieces, she had made me a bikini. After a day of swimming in the deck pool, being partially drowned by my brother and just generally disturbing the peace, mum decided we should head back to the cabin to shower and change. Mum, her friend and my brother headed off with me in tow.

At some point, mum turned around to check that I was still following her like a good little duckling, and I was, just waddling along behind the rest of the group ........only suddenly I was stark naked.

“Where’s your bikini!?” Mum cried

“I threw it over the edge mum.” I replied matter-of-factly. 

“Why did you do that?!”

“I felt like it.” No hint of remorse. 

And I continued to pad along the deck, nude, having gifted my handmade-with-love bikini to the sea, and evidently quite happy with my decision. I wasn't trying to be rude, or ungrateful or bratty. I just wanted to see what it would be like if I took off my bikini and hurled it into the ocean from a moving luxury liner.

I wish I remembered the feeling, because I think it would be much less acceptable behaviour for an adult.

My main question is, why did no other passenger stop me? Surely someone would have noticed a 4 year old disrobing in the middle of the pool deck, running up to the side of the ship and setting their swimwear free over the edge?

I can only imagine it was the look of fierce determination on my little toddler face which dissuaded them from trying to keep me from my life’s mission.

But as I said, I think this story pretty well sums me up as a person on the whole. When I do stupid things I’m not trying to be bratty or rude or ungrateful…I just want to see what would happen if…

Plus I don't like wearing pants.

I’m out there every day asking the big important questions. Scientific mind. 

Let’s call it that.