Stick Figures

The Lollipop Ladies all have a good head on their shoulders.

I call them ‘Lollipop Ladies’ because their heads are larger than their stick bodies ... I can see you visualising them too.

Lollipops are usually to be found driving big Shiny Black SUVs, (an acronym for Stupid Ugly Vehicle) and propped up on two cushions, peering over the steering wheel. I know this because on more than one occasion when a Lollipop has parked outside my store, (making at least 10 attempts to parallel park), Lollipop has opened her car door to get out and two cushions have fallen on the road. Actually, Lollipop has too, almost, and has to hang on to the door frame while blowing in the faint wind until she kind of somersaults and lands on her feet ... all that hard work at the gym finally paying off ... yay!
They are always blond.

The process of watching Lollipops emerge from their Pavement Panthers (as I once heard someone call them – don’t you love it?), is an experience not to be missed, as it usually takes about half an hour for said Lollipop and children, who have such fabulous names, such as Gaia, Indigo (isn’t that a name for a blue colour?) and Talitha. Interestingly enough, the boys are always called Jack or Max, and the dog is some huge beast to disembark. Then comes the ritual of prams, harnesses and leashes (for the dog).

Sometimes Lollipop has a wee group of Lollipops with her, a mixed bag ... suckers, I call them, and, on occasion, Nana who is coming along to ‘help out’.
I love watching the Nana segment, as Nana can’t jump down out of the ‘Stupid Ugly Vehicle’ (much less somersault) and you know what, neither could I. When Nana goes to board, this too is often a challenge, although Nana always puts on a brave face complete with grim smile.
I am endlessly intrigued that although gifted with such interesting monikers, unfortunately the offspring’s names don’t necessarily match their faces. More often than not, Gaia, Indigo and Talitha would be more aptly coined Jane, Susan and Debbie. I mean absolutely no disrespect to all Janes, Susans and or Debbies – in fact, the Lollipop herself is often named Jane, Susan or Debbie.

I have, however, found that all Jacks and Maxes that I have encountered are, well, naughty.
THEN THEY ENTER MY STORE!
Jack/Max immediately starts running up the two flights of stairs at the back of the store. Nana can’t get up the stairs to get to him and Lollipop’s head is to one side, mobile anchored between head and shoulder, steering with one hand the triple buggy-thingee while balancing a triple trim/caffeine free/half shot/flat white in the other hand, casually perusing the racks. The dog is tied to the power pole outside.
Lollipops NEVER find anything in my store. Our clothes are (SHOCK! HORROR!) too big for them!

That is why you see them wearing their perma-wardrobe of leggings and two-tone tank tops. This is also to show off the hours of pram power walks (don’t you think it looks incongruous when there’s thunder and lightning and they’re out with the heavy plastic covering over the pram, dripping condensation, I mean, can those kids even breathe?) and the pilates (while the children are at the gym crèche of course, no Zumba DVDs for them, thank you very much). I think it’s such a shame, to be soooo thin and wear nothing but leggings and tank tops, although to be fair, for variety there is the camouflage combo.

It’s a kind of universe payback. Finally ‘thin enough’ and can’t find anything to fit (kids and Asian stores don’t count, I’m afraid) ARRRRGH! Sort of like reverse fat isn’t it?
Sometimes Lollipop will pick up a garment and hold it in front of our wonderful (large) mirror. This is the sign for Jack/Max to then start licking the mirror, painting pictures on it with his spit or writing on the mirror with his bogeys. Lollipop, of course, ignores him, having barely acknowledged any of your attempts to engage with her.

“No size 4?” says she. “I can never find any size 4s. Have they all gone?” Pardon ... size what? Actually, no, we don’t make a size 4. Why? We are consumer friendly and if there was enough demand, we surely would. No, we don’t do white jeans either.
Nana meanwhile has flopped into a chair and, bewildered, looks around. “It’s all a bit weird dear,” she says. It sure is ... although upon reflection, I think she means the clothes. Oh, Nanny McPhee/Mary Poppins, where are you?

This is where Lollipop asks for a drink of water for Jane (sorry Gaia), somewhere to change Susan’s (I mean Indigo’s) nappy, a microwave for Debbie’s (Talitha’s) bottle and, “Where’s your toilet, Jack/Max needs to go poos.”

This is where I calmly pick up my own lollipop and bite it in half ... and point Lollipop in the direction of her ‘Stupid Ugly Vehicle’, which a parking warden is ticketing for exceeding the time limit, partially parking on the pavement (Pavement Panther) and over yellow lines.
“Oh my God!” screams Lollipop (so shrill) flying out of the store without children/Nana. “My husband will kill me! Do you not know who I am? My husband is ...” to a bemused warden who, of course, has seen and heard it all before and doesn’t know nor care who Lollipop or her husband are ... and you know what? ... I never do either!
Sometimes they leave the dog behind.

Martine Hoareau
www.annahstretton.co.nz