Our child is five years old. When the nursery is closed we need to kill time. 
To avoid endless role-play with tiny plastic unicorns in uncomfortable positions on the floor, we take our child out. In spring we are at the petting zoo. We watch the new born goat-kids kick and jump uncontrollably on their spindly, twitching legs. On colder days we walk along the corridors of the natural history museum. Rows of cabinets filled with taxidermy: reptiles, tiny feathered beings and dark furry carnivors. They were killed and stuffed to serve as sculptures for eternity. Is this child-friendly entertainment? Carcasses behind glass. From the elongated nose of a soft-shelled turtle a drop of hardened epoxy resin hangs, the same way a drop of liquid snot might hang from the human toddler's nose in winter. When we get home our child eats an ice-lolly in the comfort of her dads arms. Her eyes glazed over, non-seeing, looking inward. She is concentrating on the present sensation of cold, melting sweetness in her mouth. 

Babette Semmer, 14.5.2025

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