There were container trucks everywhere, most of them backed into black-bumpered loading docks, which were at a height that only our heads were high enough to see over. We didn’t care. Our attention was focussed downwards, intent on scanning the gravelled staging area for bright pieces of metal.
My brother and I used to collect all kinds of things, but one of the more expensive activities that resulted in uneven collections were our respective obsessions with plastic models — small versions of larger things that we had to assemble ourselves with glues and cements.
Product placement has always been a part of many a corporate strategy to get goods and services recognized and top-of-mind, from daytime television shows originally sponsored by US soap manufacturers to fast food characters in bright, cartoonish costumes.
My brother and I had a division of chores. My job was to take out the garbage (because of course it was), clean the kitty litter box, and vacuum all the floors. My brother’s job was to unload the dishwasher and take out the compost (he was younger, so had less to do).
We hid around the corner in the living room. Our breathing was quiet, our positions stock-still. Our attention was focussed on our mother, at the kitchen sink, washing up the pots and pans from dinner. A quick peek around the edge of the wall showed that she was almost done.
