Warm and Fuzzy

Feeling Warm and Fuzzy

“Bang”

“No!”

“bang”

“Stop”

“bangbang”

I roll up, curl up and laugh – with relief – because she did stop – and we are in a state of grace You see her ability to torment can can exactly match my objection to it.
So. Now I’m awake. – well and truly.
Maxwell Smart – ‘The old water pistol in the face Saturday morning wake-up call’.

In the kitchen I can hear,

“Shanny you hungry?”

“Yes.”

I contribute:

“There’s yoghurts in the fridge”

The elfin 9 year old – my daughter – appears again.

“Can we have HoneyO’s?”

“Completely and pleasantly suprised by this sensible breakfast”

“Of course. Where’s Ruby?” (Shanny’s older sister, my daughter’s best friend)

“At Katie’s”

Shanny appears,

“Yeah at Dumb Old Katie’s”

I laugh

“So you are both Katie refugees huh?”

You see Katie’s mother cannot tolerate either of these children. So in our street they are ‘banned from Katies house’ mmmmm, but it does rankle … rejection.

So now I’m up. The neighbours are having a durry outside my bedroom window and the new born next door wants something because he’s crying a tiny, urgent newborn cry.

Jes and Shanny are outside eating – well not yet……

Jes in the role of ‘biggest sister’ announces they are going to pray.

I smile inside and out, raise my eyebrows and take a delighted interest

“Dear Lord. Thankyou for this good food and look after me and Shanny and Ruby at Katie’s house”. Pause. “That’s the first prayer I’ve ever said.”

My mother’s heart leaps at the unaffected honesty of my girl – I had been wondering about the origins of the prayer protocol.

I’d forgotten how much I love cartoons.

I’d even forgotton how much I love 3 year olds.

Careful Jen, where are you? Yes of course. This is a mid-cycle alert.

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