Reason #48: Strangers on a Train
Photo by Chris Yang on Unsplash
You've heard of Snakes on a Plane, so let me tell you about these strangers on a train. Before that, however, there is a little bit of necessary background info: it was my friend's birthday this week, so I went to visit them. She invited me a some of her other friends to drink a totally appropriate amount! That being said, it meant that there were 2 married couples, one engaged couple, and me.
A lot of drinking occurred (surprising, I know), and the following evening I got onto a train whilst fairly hung over. I got myself a drink to take the edge off, and some crisps to snack on whilst on the train. A sign of things to come was when a kid sat in a seat across from me waved, and said hi. She said she thought my crisps looked tasty, but her mum had bought her a muffin so I told her (who I will hence refer to as G) that her muffin looked "very nommy". I put my headphones back in and thought that was that.
That, in fact, was not that.
The single mum was wrangling these two kids for the majority of the train ride. It was most certainly not a quiet train ride, the kids were around 5 and 3, and as I was sat just behind they kept looking over at me and trying to talk to me. It started with the crisps, then they wanted to show me that they were colouring, and at one point, the son (who I will now call B), came up to me and asked "Why are you wearing sunglasses on a train? I can't see your eyes!"
I used this opportunity to take off my sunglasses off and engage in a proper chat, getting to know the kids. I asked B his name, and he said he identifies as “Phil the gardener”. I discovered that this was because they have a neighbour called Phil, who happened to be gardening one day, and B has just hyper-fixated on that in the way that kids do.
I complimented G on her flower crown/hairband, and she spent a few minutes explaining that it was a gift from a grandparent, and that the flowers move around a bit.
Near the end of the train ride, with the kids peaking in their insanity, their mum ended up sitting next to me on the train and asked “Hey, do you have kids of your own?”, I said no, and she followed up with “oh, you must work with kids then, are you a teacher or something?” Unsure quite how to respond, I asked “no, why do you say that?” and she said “well, you have been been really patient with them, and clearly they loved you. I assumed that you work with kids because most people wouldn't have put up with them the way you have.”
The truth is, I didn't put up with them. I love the sense of wonder that young children have, how they find everything to be super fascinating. B pointed out every digger we went past, and told me about how when he got home he was going to get all of the best gardening equipment.
I spent a lot of time when Raisin was born helping out, and whenever I am with family/friends who have young children, I always end up babysitting them. Every time they score a point in a game I will give an enthusiastic "Good job!", whenever there's a food they don't seem sure about I'll take a bite and do a cartoonish "yummy, yummy!", and I often chase them around the garden threatening that I'm a scary monster and will eat them up if I catch them.
The train ride ended up being really lovely, we said our goodbyes when the train got to the final station, and the mum was apologetic that I didn't get the quiet train ride I probably had wanted. I never got their names, but that was okay.
I walked away, and I ended up feeling really… off, afterwards. I spent the weekend with a lot of couples, and during this train ride effectively helped with babysitting these kids. It made me feel lonelier than usual, which was compounded when a friend told me the exciting news of their engagement this morning. Again - I am super happy for them, and I told them as much! But it was a sobering reminder that I am in my late 20s, that I am single, and that I want a family of my own.
Today was an 8/10
This post is part of a series called "The Reason". I haven't committed to living forever, but I find a reason to live for one more day every day. Read the rest of the series here.