Baby Gorilla

Written by Ben Tallon

Every night, right before the kids go to bed, I step into my role as ‘baby gorilla’, a character the kids handed me. It’s a simple creation involving a fantasy banana heist, differing each night. Literally, nothing changes – I’m still shambolically tired and their father putting them to bed, but when we hit the landing, two pairs of excited wide eyes are on me.

‘Baby gorilla! Baby Gorilla! What’s your secret?!’

There’s so much to manage between 5pm and their bedtime at 7.30pm each night that I fail to think ahead. This means that inside 10 or so seconds, I must beat my chest, curl my lips, and generate two imaginative methods of smuggling the yellow fruit into my bed without the knowledge of my fictitious gorilla parents.

There have been many benefits for my creativity since the advent of parenthood, but this divergent thinking workout is among the best. It’s a common comparison, but the athlete’s muscle metaphor isn’t misplaced when considering creativity – an ability that must be conditioned and maintained to get the most out of it.

And in that vein, coming up with new methods of getting these prized bananas to my ‘bed’ isn’t easy. Sometimes they’re ludicrous, such as tonight’s poor ‘I’ve hidden 20 of them behind the wallpaper’ effort. Other times they’re topical – circular slices of banana behind advent calendar doors. Then on occasion, the tactics uphold under scrutiny – helping my storyline gorilla parents do the laundry and tucking multiple bananas into sleeves and trouser legs.

Initially, I did this to indulge my children’s humour and develop their imaginations, but I found myself in a positive creative headspace each evening once they were asleep, as if the mental squats were paying off over a long period of time. During a pre-Christmas pile up of projects, I noticed how easily I was able to access conceptual thinking, and enter flow, and while this is not owing only to Baby Gorilla, it is playing a part. I used to worry how much time I’d have left for such personal development once the twins arrived, but being 37 when they arrived, I’d viewed my creativity as a part of my broader life for a good while, so I knew not to overlook the new opportunities children in my life would bring in place of the studio time I’d have to surrender.

It is now something I’ll weave into my workshops with businesses.

How long Baby Gorilla will remain a part of our daily routines remains to be seen, but he’s just one such character in an ever-evolving carousel of silly inventions, and I keenly await the conception of the next.