Primate Parents
Apr 18th, 2007 by Eats Wombats
I just finished The Almond Blossom Appreciation Society by Chris Stewart. It’s very much a book for those who read and enjoyed his earlier books, the first of which, Driving Over Lemons was a charming, enjoyable read. I’ve yet to see the second for sale but I’ll certainly read it if I see it. I suppose this is in part because I enjoy ‘knowing the story’ and that this is why many people watch soap operas on television, but I do also particularly enjoy reading outsiders’ appreciations of other lives and places.
The third in the trilogy got a mean review in the The Guardian, which overlooked some real humour and humanity. Underachieving nobodies, as the reviewer has confessed himself to be (Google him if you really want to know), do not like tales of the simple life actually being a happy life.
The entertainment value of this volume was oversold on the cover: “possibly the one travel writer who is genuinely funnier than Bill Bryson.” Travel book? I have no recollection of finding Bryson hilarious. It was, anyway, a pleasant read and ended on an endearing note that anyone who has ever been an embarrassingly unevolved parent would enjoy, and which only a curmudgeonly Guardianista could fail to. The book ends with the family finishing a tub of ice cream. The parents then admire the tub.
I looked at Anna and she looked back at me, and in our look there was a wordless corroboration, each of the other’s thoughts (you get this sort of thing when you’ve been living together for a long time). Together, we were marvelling at this simple utilitarian object of perfection and –in its way — its ineffable loveliness.
Gradually, we became aware that our daughter was watching us in amazement.
‘Look at the pair of you. You’re like a couple of primates.’ she spluttered. ‘It’s only an ice cream tub, for heaven’s sake!’
Ana and I looked up at each other, lid and box in hand, and then at Chloe, and in one of those rare moments of perfect synchronicity all three of us exploded into laughter.
