Eventually I found it disturbing. I wondered what effect this was having on the mental state of the buggy’s passenger. And I began to suspect that the same thing probably happened to me at a similar age, and that the terrifying experience thus endured at least partially accounts for my misanthropic tendency.
Monday, 7 March 2016
Maybe Misplaced Adoration.
I watched a scenario today which had all the makings of some primitive pagan ritual. There was a baby buggy, presumably containing a baby, and around it were three women. One had her head almost in the receptacle, and she was uttering an unbroken string of high pitched cooing noises. The other two stood slightly further away with their heads bowed, staring into the buggy with adoring – or maybe that should be ‘simpering’ – smiles on their faces. Every so often they would raise their heads in concert, lean backwards and murmur ‘ahhhh’ in stentorian tones, repeating the process about every ninety seconds. It was quite fascinating and went on for at least ten minutes, while I looked on enthralled.