“When you were little,” Kit began, “In the Olden Days. Were there dinosaurs?”
“Excuse me!” I replied, “They were extinct 65 million years before I was born.”
“But weren’t there loads of animals that are extinct now?” he asked.
“Yes, probably,” I conceded, “But not dinosaurs.”
“What about Megafauna?” he quizzed, “They must have been around. Didn’t you have to sleep in really tall trees to protect yourselves?”
“Um…no. The megafauna were also before me. We slept in beds. In houses. But it was before fitted sheets had been invented,” I added, “So things were a bit more difficult. What with hospital corners, and everything, we didn’t have all the free time that people do now days,” I love messing with him.
“But we worked out that you’re old enough to be my great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandmother in meerkat years, so you’re actually really old.”
“If only great respect came with great age,” I quipped.
“I respect you heaps, Mum!” he quickly piped up.
“Thank you, Kit.”
“Except when you tell me off.”
“…or make me tidy up, or go to bed.”
“…or make me change my socks. It’s hard to respect someone who makes you change your socks.”
“You don’t even wear socks,” I objected.
“Yes, but if I did, I know you would make me change them,” he explained.
“You are extrapolating inappropriately,” I complained.
“I am not!” he exclaimed, “I never extra anything unless you make me.”
“Anyway,” he went on, concerned, “Is there anything we can do to stop all the extinction?”
“There’s always something we can do,” I answered, “When I was a little girl, in Wellington in the 1980s, many native species of birds were so endangered that I had never even seen one. Back then, the New Zealand government set up conservation programs. In the last few years, I’ve seen birds like tui, kereru and kea, not just in sanctuaries, but in people’s back yards. Once, when I was out hiking, I even saw a blue duck.”
“Did you really, Mum?” Kit was excited, “Aren’t they the famous ones on our ten dollar note?”
“Yes they are! And I even got a photo.”
“Wow!” Kit exclaimed, “That’s even better than getting a photo of Edmund Hillary; he’s only on the five dollar note!”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that this was even more unlikely because Edmund Hillary has been unavailable for photo opportunities since 2008, due being deceased.
“Take my photo with the ten dollar note,” he begged, so I did.
“From now on,” he joked, “I’m not going to call it ten bucks. I’m going to say ten ducks.”
“You’ll make a great Dad some day!” I told him.