It is 5am. I awake to Mabel stroking my hair and whispering.
Mabel: ‘I want to go to the Warehouse. I want a castle. Big. And a computer. Is it Christmas?’
Over and over.
Tag Archives: mae mae
My Way Or The Mae Way.
We are rolling about on the bed; making letters with pillows. After a successful ‘T’ another pillow is fetched to attempt an ‘M’.
We are working on tidying up one unholy mess before we move on to make another unholy mess.
Alice: ‘C’mon, Mae. Let’s put this pillow back in your room.’
Mabel: ‘No! Mae-Mae can’t do it!”
Alice: ‘And why not?’
Mabel: ‘I can’t! …Because I don’t want to!’
If You Can’t Say Something Nice.
Mabel: ‘Stop being crappy, Mama!’
Alice: ‘…Excuse me?!’
Mabel: ‘MAMA! STOP BEING CRAPPY!’
Alice: ‘…Do you mean crabby?’
Mabel: ‘Dunno.’
Hide and Seek.
Mabel: ‘Heh, heh. You’ll never find it now!’
I have no idea what she was talking about. But I bet it’s in the pot cupboard.
Thanks Giving.
Mabel: ‘MAMA! I AM A RAINBOW! KISS MY FINGERS!’
And I do, of course. One should never say no to a Rainbow.
And then…
Mabel: ‘MAMA! I AM CLAPPING THE KISSES!’
Sometimes, the truth (no one will tell you) is that your kids will make your heart swell; like the ocean; like an orchestra, and in such a way that it fills up your whole body and your whole day and your whole life. And all the things that you have thought you were not doing well enough stop calling to you, because right now, fallen in your lap, is someone who makes you see just how well you are doing.
It will always be Permanent Marker.
A Children’s Story from Christchurch.
One sweet Spring morning, the sun woke us up with the promise of adventure.
We filled our bellies with toast and jam, turning our noses up at slices of apple; prefering to feed them to the dog, who ate them greedily.
We fought our way out of our pyjamas, the ruthless adversaries of every morning, and dressed for the new day.
We hunted our shoes; they would always split up when they knew we were coming for them. It could take us a good long while to capture and reunite them. But we do; because Mother says it is too far to walk in gumboots, and no, she won’t carry us.
We walked to the park, excited about what we would do there. First, the swings! We thought. Then, the birds! We agreed. Last, the slide! We could not wait. We had been so good and walked so far and had hardly rowed at all!
But then!
‘Where is the playground?’, asked Theo.
‘WHERE MAE-MAES SLIDE?’, cried Mabel.
‘Fuck’, whispered Mother.
‘They are fixing the playground!’, She told us.
‘Aren’t we lucky!’, She reasoned.
‘Bloody wobbles!’, She concluded.
And we agreed.
Damn the Patriarchy.
Theo: ‘I have a penis and a bottom. Otto has a penis and a bottom. Mama has a fanny and a bottom. Mae-Mae has a fanny and a bottom.’
Mabel: ‘No! I have a digger!’
Morning Ritual
“Mama? Where is my tutu?”
“This one?”
“No! Not that one!”
“…This one?”
“No! Not that one!”
“…What about this one, darling? You love this one!”
“No! Not that one! Mae-Mae no love that one!” (she says as she clutches it to her face, stroking it)
“How about this one?”
“NO! NOT THAT ONE!”
“This? Surely this one?”
“NO! NO! NO! NO! NOT THAT ONE!”
“This one, DARLING? THIS ONE? THIS BLOODY TUTU? THIS TUTU IN THE ENDLESS SEA OF BLOODY TUTUS THAT HAS BECOME MY EVERY MORNING?”
“..hmm?…Um. No.”
We collapse. Overcome by tulle and ennui.
She turns to me, angel-faced. Touches my cheek as if to say; such is life, Mama.
And then she roars ‘NO TUTU, MAMA! I WANT POPCORN!’ and we begin our day.
Colour Studies: Revlon Nail Varnish – 917 Plum Seduction.
Wake Up and Smell the Acetone.
ourtinylandscapes.com 