Showing posts with label wrong connections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wrong connections. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 July 2011

In Tandem #3 Brown eyes

In Tandem comes from the agile brain of Jinksy.
Here's what she says this week . . .
'This week the Tandem has two riders! Margaret Bednar has offered one of her original artworks to accompany mine.  I thought our two styles of portraits might make an interesting contrast...
They seemed to have a strange affinity, one with the other.'

I studied the children at the gymnastics class and the young man with them, the father of one of them, I guessed. One little girl had blonde curly hair and big brown eyes. Her face had the roundness and flush of just-past infancy and it was difficult to see how it would develop. She was still little more than a baby but already her mouth seemed to have a stubborn set to it, a determination to have her own way. She was a pretty child, no doubt about it, but perhaps wilful and difficult – ‘a proper little character’ as some would say, thinking themselves fortunate that they would not have to witness evidence of her individuality. As I watched, she smiled and all hint of contrariness disappeared.

My attention was diverted by my own daughter executing a perfect back walk-over. When I looked back to the two children I decided that the other child, slightly older, I thought, was the young man’s daughter. She had the same straight, dark hair and deep-set brown eyes. Her cheekbones were more pronounced and a slight dimple in her chin confirmed it for me.

As the class came to an end, my daughter ran up to me, excited by the praise and encouragement the coach had given her. She looked over to the two little girls and waved at them. They were about to start their class.

‘Do you know those two?’ I asked.


She told me they were called Anne and Sarah.


‘And is that their daddy with them?’


She giggled. ‘No, he’s Sarah’s big brother. He’s watching them both until Anne’s mummy gets here.’


I nodded. The likeness between Sarah and her brother was remarkable.


As we were leaving a tall blonde woman came in and I waited a moment to see the greeting between mother and daughter, to confirm my deductions. To my surprise, she hugged the child I had thought was Sarah, shook hands with the young man and said ‘Hello’ to the little blonde-haired Anne.

For a moment I felt like saying to the tall blonde, ‘Are you sure?’ but common sense prevailed and my daughter and I went home.

(I have made the same wrong connections in the past and also other people have wrongly assumed my blonde daughters belonged to someone else!)