Money Banks.

by Lori Dwyer on August 16, 2013 · 6 comments

My daughter is obsessed with anything naturally occurring. Even if it is inanimate.

The Bump is fascinated with the huge, ugly seed pods that fall from the Banksia tree in our backyard. She collects them, large and small, and organises them into family groups; as she knows family groups to be. A large seed pod, a medium sized seed pod, a small seed pod. But instead of the nuclear representation- a daddy, a mummy, a baby- these banksia pods represent myself, her brother, and her.

Some days she insists on bringing them inside, and while banksia dust all over my floor is annoying, it’s also kind of sweet.

Sweeter still is the way she just can’t remember what they’re called. “Look, mummy!” she will say, “A money bank!”

“No, baby. they’re called Banksias.”

And she giggle. “Oh, that’s right. Banksias.”

Until three of four days later, when she comes across another one.

“Look mummy! A money bank!”