As the rain pitter patters outside, I ponder what should become of the Little Green Wellies.
You see, we tried them on Max today and they were too small. A sad occurrence really, for this marks the end of an era in our family. The end of the precious moment of some firsts- first wellies, first walks in the rain, first splashes in muddy puddles. These are first which, hopefully, help our children become connected to their natural environment, to love the outdoors and all it has to offer.
The Little Green Wellies have seen us through these firsts for five children- my 3 and their 2 cousins- and maybe even more, for I’m not quite sure how we acquired the Little Green Wellies.
In the early days, the Little Green Wellies were often referred to as gum boots, for that’s what we called wellington boots when I was a child. They morphed into wellies as I learnt the lingo of motherhood growing in the role as my Littlins grew- learning from family, friends, nursery and even my Littlins once they started chattering. They tended to be called wellies whichever language we were speaking; preferred to over larsjes (Dutch) or gumicsizma (Hungarian; pronounced goo-mee cheese-ma). Wellies was just easier and sound like more fun too!
The Little Green Wellies have had some fun for sure!
Angelina splashing in huge puddles at the Cowley Road festival one summer. Having so much fun in the Little Green Wellies and all in one rain suite that the local news station filmed her and used it to show that even rain won’t ruin the Cowley Road carnival.
Living in a caravan while our house was bombarded to bits and then put together by builders the Little Green Wellies were my 18 month old Hugo’s only attire concern. He put them on first thing in the morning- not worrying about donning anything else- to go out to play and survey what the builders were getting upto. He was my best foreman! He’d balance precariously on floor joists with a hammer in one hand, dropped screws he’d collected in the other; wearing a jumper (which had to be coaxed onto him), nappy and the Little Green Wellies. He’d often escape from our lodgings at the bottom of the garden before I could give him breakfast. Starting his day in them, he’d also finish his day in the Little Green Wellies: Hugo would troddle down in them in PJs to his bed in the caravan after his bath in the kitchen sink of our house in bits.
Max inherited the Little Green Wellies after his cousins had them for two years. As the third child, always watching, soaking in what his big sister and brother got upto, he didn’t need encouraging on most things. He’s the “me too!” type. He’s managed to get Little Green Wellies wetter on the inside than they were on the outside, escapes from the house to the garden in PJs and the Little Green Wellies, feeding the chickens, connecting eggs.
Reminiscing, I’ve just remembered that the Little Green Wellies have taken each of my Littlins on their first walks in fresh snow too; keeping their little feet dry and helping the thick woolly socks keep them warm, staying out to build their first snowman, slide down a snowy hill for the first time.
So many fond memories!
These little green wellies with the Winnie the Pooh design on the side have served the family better than most wellies since. None are destined to make it to my third child so far. The Little Green Wellies have lasted well despite poor treatment of sun and rain, smoldering hot (from the sun on the car- for that’s where they often lived- awaiting their next adventure ) and icy cold.
Oh what shall become of you Little Green Wellies now you have finished your service with us? Shall we pass you on or stash you in our memory box?
Thank you Little Green Wellies for all the happy times!