What's in the bag?

Or, to Game apologists, 'little girl Game'.


I am indeed an Auntie. Several times over. Biologically speaking. And also to children I am not actually strictly-speaking related to.
But I have never managed to master niece or nephew Game.
Ever.
Here's a cautionary tale as to why this has to change.



I was at Mass the other day. Minding my own business.
Then all of a sudden this kid appears before me from nowhere and grabs my bag.

She couldn't have been more than 4. Tops 5. Although she appeared quite big for her age. I had seen her several times before at Mass with her mother.
She was of the hyperactive variety to put it mildly.
But far from being annoying, she was cute and adorable.
However, I wonder if the priest ever saw it this way?
I mean, when there is a 4-year old standing in front of the altar blowing raspberries at you at the moment of The Consecration, 'cute and adorable' may not be the adjectives you would pick to describe her.


This child's mother was more of the passive type.
She was either too tired or had just resigned herself to accept that her kid was never going to sit still at any social function :-)

So the kid, who is now in possession of my handbag now asks me to give her my necklace.

Remember, I have no idea how to game a 4-year old girl. And frankly, these are unchartered waters for me. Can't recall ever being in this situation before. Being in a near-hostage situation at Mass had never before been one of my life experiences so far. Perhaps I was long overdue for this one :-)

In any case, I am hopeless at asserting myself to anyone under three foot tall.
In other words, they game me.

In a surreal reality which feels desperately akin to being held up at gunpoint at a gas station, I hand over my necklace and rationalise that at least I am contributing to a little girl's developing femininity :-)
I note wistfully that my necklace really suits her. Arguably more than it does me!
I tell her this.
The cheeky little bugger actually agrees :-)
Mother is still nowhere to be found.

The girl declares that she really likes my necklace.
I am genuinely pleased about that.
Um, is this a clear case of Stockholm syndrome?
I am already thinking she may keep the necklace if she keeps up this flattery :-)

People sitting nearby have begun to notice my plight and are starting to laugh.
The little girl is now saying she likes me. Quite loudly.
She tells me she likes my handbag.
I am flattered once again.
She opens it and starts peering inside.


That's when I start to panic.
Uh-oh.

You see, in every lady's handbag, there are certain items of a personal nature. All you ladies know what I mean. I dare say some of you gentlemen too.

That 'just in case' item of feminine hygiene which is definitely not for public viewing by all and sundry...

I made a move to grab the bag from the kid, but she moved away chuckling to herself as she removed item after item, and my heart started to do somersaults in anticipation of major embarrassment.
Mum is still not showing up.

The part of the congregation closest to me have now turned their full attention to me and this kid, and are now not bothering to join in the prayerful chants anymore...
This kid was proving to be better entertainment than 'The Gloria' or the 'Nicene Creed'.
That was not my assessment of the scenario. But then again, I was very much a part of said 'entertainment' by this stage, so I guess my opinion on this matter was now officially null and void.


She finds my wallet and phone. She doesn't find these interesting in the least.
Just my luck.



I try to make funny faces at her to distract her from my handbag. But somehow it doesn't work.
She ain't interested.
At least not in my face.
She promptly turns her attention back to my bag while I start to feel faint and jittery.
Any minute now...

When she finds her item of choice, she holds it up for all to see and asks me 'what is this'? again quite loudly ... before my stupefied self wakes up and grabs it from her before I have to indulge in a lecture on the 'birds and the bees' in the middle of Mass no less (!) to a 4 year old who is just way too curious for my liking :-)

By this time, everyone is falling about laughing and the priest is starting to look our way. This child managed to provide Mass entertainment (pardon the pun!) at a time I least expected or desired.
Luckily, I notice that the nearest people to me were women, so my embarrassment was mitigated somewhat.

The kid got bored after that and went off to harrass the priest, wearing my (now empty) handbag and necklace and jiggling my house keys noisily as she ran up the central aisle. (I had no idea where my wallet or phone were at this point).

I see the priest's visibly forlorn expression of heartsink as little Bopeep approaches him...I can see he's 'been here' before. Several times. With this one kid.
But I am not about to sympathise.
Rather him than me, I think to myself uncharitably :-)
(Yes, yes, mea culpa and all that :-)
It's definitely every man for himself at Mass sometimes.


Mum eventually showed up with little girl in tow to hand me back my handbag and keys after Mass. But little girl did not want to hand back the necklace. Mum tried everything to no avail.

To put Mum out of her misery, I bent down to little girl and said, 'it's my belated Easter present to you'.
The smile I got was worth all the embarrassment I had just suffered at her hands.

She repeated 'I like you' and skipped off happily with Mum.
Somehow I get the feeling that's not the last I've seen of these two.


My options now include:
1. Get a child-proof lock on my handbag.
2. Give up wearing necklaces to Mass.
3. Work on my 'niece Game'.
4. Resume attendance at leadership course so I can stand up to the little people.
5. Try out a few disguises.
6. Pay 'protection money' to the local kindergarten gangs.
7. Find a new church.
8. Find a new religion.



That kid has her 'girl game' going on alright :-)
And she picked the right 'victim' in me, because I am still at the stage of life where I think other people's kids are 'cute'.

If I am honest I would say that I was somewhat pleased to have been taken to task in this way by this kid.


For a start, I was a bit taken aback by her brazen approach and ease of relating to a relative stranger. I was initially somewhat alarmed to see a child with this stark lack of 'stranger danger'. But then again, she may have already been through that stage. (I am not an expert on child development, but perhaps the 'stranger danger' thing happens at age 2-3 perhaps? Parents, please enlighten me :-)
And, thinking about it, perhaps I actually wasn't a stranger to the child afterall. I mentioned I had seen her several times at Mass before. Perhaps she was used to seeing me around too.

I do believe in conspiracy theories. It would make sense to suppose that I was a 'marked woman'. That she had 'premediated' her swoop on me and my belongings.
Because otherwise, it would seem far too fanciful that I was just randomly pounced upon by a 4 year old semi-terrorist. In a Catholic church, no less.
Is nowhere sacred anymore, I ask you?
:-)


Secondly, it amazed me how casually she related to me, stranger or not.
This may not be apparent to the English speakers amongst us, but many European languages make a distinction between an informal 'you' and a polite, formal 'You'.
French is no exception.
Children address their parents in the informal way. But any adult stranger is 'You'.
(In a way that amuses me immensely, I note that in french Our Lady is addressed as 'You' and God as 'you'!!! - does God take offence at this, I wonder? :-)

This kid addressed me in the informal way. Which actually had the effect of making me relax when relating to her. But I could not help but notice the disapproving gasps from our audience - sticklers for standing on ceremony, they were :-)
Or maybe at age 4, this child was too young to know the difference?
(Somehow I think not - at age 4, I too was french-speaking. And I knew the difference already. As I note other (french-speaking) kids today also do).

Being quite tall, I always felt that somehow, kids would (or should!) be wary of me. When I was a child, I was less scared of shorter strangers than the tall.
But no... I find the opposite. Kids always relate to me like I am their age :-)
This appeals to my own inner child, because I do love to retreat into the world of childhood every now and again.
But I also worry that this perception of me by kids in general means that if I become a parent, I won't be taken seriously by my own children either :-(
I would just be another playmate to them.
That can't be good, right?

On a related note, I note that the Mansophere mindset is that women are just (mostly) overgrown children anyway.
This view is also held by many a Catholic saint of old (inclding St. Augustine?) and certainly many ancient philosophers like Schopenhauer.
On the one hand I detect a 'neg'. And my 'inner woman' is outraged of course.
On the other, if I force myself to indulge in my habitual game of 'see it another way', I take it as a compliment:
Was it not our Lord himself who said  "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

(And I can see male eyes rolling with contempt in response to this particular hamster spin :-)


Thirdly, although I initially found it surprising, I was pleased that Mum was relaxed enough to leave her child and me to interact. Or, perhaps in the manner of my reaction when the child left me in search of the priest, she was just grateful for someone else to take on their share of the proverbial 'pain' :-)
I am sure (I hope!) she was at least following her daughter with her eyes, and knew where she was at all times. I couldn't see her (I had no idea which corner of the church the kid had popped out from) but I hope she could see me.
I am not sure I would have her confidence that any stranger, male or female, was 'safe' enough to leave my child with, even for 5 minutes, even in the middle of  a crowded church.
But maybe I shall feel differently when I am in her shoes. And with a child like hers who is clearly never going to be a wallflower :-)



The encounter with the kid also got me thinking about relationships in general.
I was fine with her taking off with my bag for almost an hour.
Seriously, I didn't care.

My only issue was, 'Oh My God, what will she do with the contents of my bag that should not be made public viewing?'

I touched on privacy and intimacy in the post 'In to me see'.
Things are great with people we meet, like, interact with, relate to, until we remember there may be something 'in the bag' we wouldn't like them to see.
Then we try to get the bag away from them.


We all have some sort of baggage, some light, others heavy.
Not all of our baggage can be declared at 'Customs'. Some are for our own eyes only.
The trick is to know what, how, when and who to share our 'undeclarables' with.


How to negotiate this delicate exercise without hurting the feelings of the other person?
Admittedly, they are not 4 years old.


But inside every adult is a 4 year old, no?
With a propensity to be hurt in a way that might not be obvious to us.