The Trunki Junkies

I must admit, when I first saw the colourful quirkiness of the Trunki wheel pass me in London's Heathrow, I smiled. I think everyone does, they are bright and kooky and fun, so we all smile, in the way you smile at cute babies and fluffy toys. Well, before you remember that cute babies have not so cute lungs and fluffy toys have incessantly annoying built-in music.
 
And so begins the demise of my novelty for the aforementioned Trunki, as weeks pass by, and suddenly it  feels like every queue in every airport seems to have a Trunki gridlock as its epicentre and the kooky child carrier quickly morphs into the frequent flyers worst nightmare and I wonder...at what stage is it that natural loving parents all fall folly to post-natal amnesia that seems to forget that the average attention span of their toddler(s) is typically less than 10 minutes? 

As a frequent flyer I am all about convenience and travelling light, but I have pondered if there is some form of subliminal marketing messaging that accompanies the call of the Trunki? I wonder… can it be true that the USP (unique selling pitfall) is an instant parental sense of delusion that piling a child's must have toys and personal effects into another mini suitcase is, in fact, a weight offloaded?  

Even during the fun child-Trunki bonding (which last approximately 15 minutes) the entire family slows down to a vitual stop and, with that, a queue of restless airport commuters (or me). Perhaps it is the excitement of gleeful kiddie faces that means the general rules of  child safety are forgotten, but I wonder...where is it overlooked that children mounted on Trunkis cannot be pulled at speed, without it becoming a rodeo that inevitably ends in screams and occasional blood. Please note, crash helmets are not included

For older children the carnage takes a whole new format. More steady and better balanced than a wobbling toddler, they are capable of Trunki manoeuvring the departure lounge as if it were the Monaco Grand Prix. A whole new world of pain and tannoy announcements that also inevitably ends in delayed flights and buggies at security.
 
For the remaining 45 minutes of the hour, the remainder where the child-Trunki bond breaks when they have to actually trail it behind them, the risk of lost kiddie luggage can only be prevented when there is no other option but for it to be assumed the latest dad-bag. And a great look it is, too.
 
Admittedly not a parent myself, but I wonder....is it wishful thinking that our 3 year olds could be capable of carrying their own luggage, fending for themselves through a summer busy airport, or if they should get ‘lost’ at least they would have a night' s change of clothes and a squeaky toy?

‘Til next time, Pandora