Sometimes
Elder daughter Beanie is in the kitchen, toying with the pink plastic plate containing her supper. It's bananas, broken rice cakes and raisins tonight. Her choice. She glances down to where I am knelt on the kitchen floor, scooping up old rice cakes, encrusted porridge and moulted hairs.
"I love you, Mummy."
I wipe sweat from my face, push the hair out of my eyes and smile at her.
"I love you, Beanie."
She looks thoughtful for a second.
"Actually," (a favourite new word of the moment, signalling she is about to say something she knows I will not like) "Actually, sometimes I love you." She frowns. "And sometimes I don't." My heart sinks, part of it plummeting downwards towards my stomach.
Beanie now looks at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to provide an explanation of these difficult emotions. I'm not sure what to say. I put down the cleaning cloth and rifle through my memory for inspiration.
"You see, Beanie, when two people love each other and are close to each other, like we are, it's normal to have disagreements. Times when you argue or don't get on so well. That's part of loving someone. It's normal to get annoyed with each other, it's real, it doesn't mean you don't love them. The love is always there. You know like in your book?"
She looks thoughtful, clambers down from her turquoise booster seat and walks over to the other side of the kitchen, to her sticker board. It is festooned with 'trophies' - stickers from home and nursery given for good behaviour. She inspects the board, selects a sticker and unpeels it from the paper with painstaking care, worried in case she tears it.
She walks back to where I am sitting, having given up on floor cleaning, takes the sticker and presses it to the middle of my chest.
"There you go, Mummy."
I peer down at my chest.
Upside down, I can see the sticker has writing on it.
I look more closely. I can make out two words.
It reads: "Well done."
Posted
25 May 2009 09:44