Pre-Party Ritual.

Mabel: Mama, have you seen my skirt?

Alice: Which skirt, baby?

Mabel: My skirt! The one I like!

Alice: Hmm…what colour is it?

Mabel: Colourful!

Alice: …Colourful?

Mabel: Yes! It’s colourful and it has a top and a bottom!

Alice: Colourful. Has a top and a bottom. Can you tell me anything else about it?

Mabel: It looks like a lily!

Alice: Colourful. Has a top and a bottom. And it looks like a lily? Oh! colourful has a top and a bottom and it looks like a lily!

Mabel: Yes, mama. Why was that so hard for you?

(She doesn’t like photos at the moment – so you’ll have to use your imagination…it’s an old one from Rock Your Baby. They still show up on Ebay sometimes x)

 

 

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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.