SURF's world view was, for a time, a tangle of feet, ankles, legs and booming voices that could be heard from far above the moving stalks. Mother often walked around in her stocking feet. SURF was often stunned by how many colors mother's legs could become. She was sure that her own chubby legs would take on this chameleon-like quality as soon as she found a use for them. For now, it was still very convenient to catch a ride with mother to another room.
Life was simple for her. She was content playing on the pristine floors and occasionally drooling on her mother's cards when she was lifted to her lap. She was fed when she was hungry and changed when she cried. Mother was the first thing her eyes saw in the morning and the last thing she saw at night. And although she never quite understood why mother cared so deeply for those people with the serpentine problems, she did understand it was terribly important for mother to keep track of them. "Probably some of our relatives", SURF thought.
If SURF pottied during a tense episode of Brad and Laura, Mother never seem to mind. If fact she never seemed to notice anything at all between the hours of 10 and 11. So, SURF grew up having an amazing talent for timing her bladder movements and instinctively knowing it was not a good idea to trump your partner when she led with the ace.
When SURF was six, her mother sent her to school. The real one. It was nothing like the pre-school thing she had been to before. This one had books, not just for the teachers, but for the children as well. Her experience with "Sing-Eat-Take-A-Nap Academy" had been interesting. On her first day she had never heard such crying, pleadings and repetitions of good-byes. "How dramatic," SURF thought as she witnessed the departures and arrivals. The teacher was able to restore order only after she had freed her charges from the caresses of their departing bread winners. Yes, some children were crying from relief, some were crying from sorrow and some were crying to cover the fact that they had just soiled their clothes and there wasn't a change of underwear in sight.
Some thinking tots wondered, "If you really want to keep me with you, why are you paying this stranger mega dollars a week to keep me away from you?" Confusing, but typical adult behavior. SURF and her comrades were slowly discovering that in the adult world, pain and money held some kind of grip on the adult rationale. Nevertheless, they were here and although the place smelled funny, it seemed to try to be a cheery place in the adult way of thinking such rooms were appealing to small children.
