The family were in the car. Her driving, him day dreaming in the passenger seat. They had recently bought a home, but had a holiday booked, up the coast. So they drove, despite the busy time. Their young son was in the back left seat – the boosted didn’t fit in the middle, and they’d broken the belt trying to make it fit. He played with pink ball, with little trinagular bobbles. It was too big for his hand. They drove 107km/h, just a bit over the speed limit. It was a hot day in Tasmania.

Whooosh! Bim…bim.. bim. He’d thrown the ball out the window. She saw it in the back rear view mirror. He should know better. The parents shared a glance. The day dream stopped. The son screamed ‘mum, quick get my ball’. Dad frowned, and shook his head. But she turned the car around at the next intersection doing a ‘big u-bend’ as the father called it. They back tracked, and after two u-turns and 10 minutes of lost time, they were approaching the pink ball which had been dancing and bobbling on the road, dancing out of the way of trucks and cars. The vacuum of passing cars brought the ball into the way of traffic and caused a few dangerous swerves.

Mum slowed down, putting on her hazard lights. Slowly she approached the ball which rolled towards the gutterline. She rolled over the ball, with let out a satisfying pop. The father turned to his wife, surprised. The son let out a scream of alarm. She pulled over bringing the car to a stop. Jumping from the drivers seat, traffic zoomed by – narrowly missing the open door. She walked back, picked up the ball and threw it into the car past their kid who was stunned.

‘We can talk about this lesson later,’ she said to her husband as they took off into the flow of traffic heading North.