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Take the other day, when (already running a little late) we exited the house to go and collect Ava from nursery. Upon opening the front door, Ruby clocked the bees which were happily bouncing between the flowers on our lavender bush.
"MUMMY!" Ruby squeaked. "BEEEES!"
"Yes, don't touch them darling..." She wasn't touching them but she was already grabbing the lower stems, waving the flowers around and making buzzing noises. "Sweetheart, the bees might not like that, because they're trying to get the pollen out and..."
"Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz. BEEEEEES!"
"Darling, come on let's go..."
About five minutes later, and with Ruby free of stings probably only because of the mild concussions the bees had suffered, we finally left the garden. A little way up the road, Ruby spotted something else and leapt off her scooter.
"Mummy, LOOK! Iss TREASURE!" It was a small, blue plastic bottle top.
"Oh!" I said. "That looks like a bottle top, somebody should have put that in the bin."
"No, s'treasure, mummy. Pocket?" Ru said. And I had to put it in my pocket. Further on, she stopped dead again. "LOOK, mummy!"
Ruby was pointing at something on the ground which was so small, I had to bend down to look at it. It was a one half of a tiny silver popper that had probably worked its way loose from a babygrow or something. Ru was having trouble picking it up. "Get it?" she asked me, "Pease?" I sighed and picked it up for her. "Pocket, mummy?"
We set off again and just as I was thinking it'd be a good idea to pull Ruby on her scooter so we could get up some speed, she jumped off it and ran into a wall-less front garden.
"Ruby! Don't go in other people's gardens, please!"
Luckily, by this point, we were in fact outside number 39, just three doors up from our own house – and the face of the man who opened the net curtain to see who was galloping about on his property softened when he recognised us.
After much cajoling (and apologetic expressions to my neighbour), Ruby emerged with a feather.
"FEVVER, mummy!" It wasn't the prettiest feather, but into my pocket it went.
Now the nursery Ava and Ruby attend should be a 10-12 minute walk away. I am pretty certain that particular day it took us 30 minutes plus. We gathered twigs and picked little flowers off weeds growing in walls. We stopped, pointed and talked loudly about dog poos we encountered along the way (oh the joys of living in East London). We pressed out faces against shop windows.
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We found another bottle top, and a lucky penny, and a lollypop stick. We backtracked by about eight houses when we realised we'd accidentally dropped one of the twigs.
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We were sidetracked quite considerably when Ruby spotted a dog which was going in the wrong direction.
Finally we got there. I found Ava and collected her things while Ruby showed one of the teachers some of her booty.
By the time we got home, we had crossed the road to talk to some children and their mother (none of whom we had ever seen before in our lives), we had run the wrong way up the market three times chasing pigeons, we'd found a small wheel (?), we'd spotted, and discussed at length, a lost children's cardigan which had been hung on a garden wall, and we'd learnt all about why we do NOT pick up/eat crisps which have been dropped on the pavement.
The sight of my front door was a welcome one – dinner still needed cooking and bedtime (mine!) was looming. I took out my keys, grateful to be almost inside and then...
"Mummy, LOOK! BEEEEES!"
Does this sound very familiar?
My darling toddler, thank you for...
- ...saving me pennies on the phone bill<p> Just imagine how many calls I might have made by now if the phone was EVER where it should be on its cradle! The telepathy thing isn't coming on that brilliantly, though, if I'm honest. Daddy never seems to receive the message 'bring more wine'.</p>
- ...decorating the house<p> You’re right. We really were very unimaginative when we painted it in shades of off white, hoping to achieve stylish spaces that exuded light and airiness. That big smear of chocolate you made by wiping your cheek on the wall in the living room actually matches the cushions! And should I ever enter the house and forget where the kitchen is, the line you drew with non-washable felt-tip the entire length of the wall in the hall will show me the way.</p>
- ...boosting the local economy...<p> ...by, for example, providing work for the exterminators, who come to catch the mice, who come to eat the food that you somehow manage to deposit, in minute amounts, all over the house in places that should be impossible to get to.</p>
- ...the interesting beauty regimes<p> I do remember reading that avocado is excellent for one's skin – although I’m not sure about your particular method of mixing it with snot, and transferring it from your face to mine with that expert lunge/sweep manoeuvre. Especially when I already have my make-up on.</p>
- ...for helping me make new friends...<p> ...such as the woman who answers calls for the emergency services.</p>
- ...all the long weekends...<p> ...which are always extended by several hours, what with your fascinating ability to wake up at 5am every Saturday and Sunday (or sometimes, amazingly enough, even earlier if it’s one of those rare occasions that I went out the night before).</p>
- …filling the silences in the house...<p> ...with giggles, farts, excruciatingly high-pitched screams, the brain-numbing babble of battery toys and – rather brilliantly, even when you are sleeping soundly in your bed – a deafening roar when we turn on the stereo, which you have invariably switched on to maximum volume.</p>
- ...not to mention the silences everywhere else...<p> ...like in the library, for example, when we returned your story books and you were sad to see them go. I'm not sure, when the sweet librarian suggested you could take home a different Peppa Pig book, it was an entirely appropriate response to turn purple, scream bloody murder and repeatedly try to bite her. But still, she didn't call the police or anything.</p>
- ...making my heart swell...<p> ...not only with the love I have for you, but also with adrenaline – when I catch you on the third 'rung' of the bookshelf, because you have realised there's a valuable vase up at the top (possibly the only thing in the room you haven't yet licked).</p>
- ... teaching me the true value of money<p> I thought, what with frivolous purchases of Jimmy Choos and luxurious make-up having been replaced by cautious purchases of Start-Rites and Johnsons wipes, I had learned to appreciate it. But what really clinched it for me, I think, was looking up just as you posted that £20 note through the minuscule gap between the wall and the fireplace.</p>
- ...helping me garden<p> I understand that waiting for those tomatoes to turn red is just too much for you. Never mind. After months of tending those plants (which I grew from seed by the way, do you remember?), rather than plucking ripe juicy tomatoes for glorious summer salads, I will just look up recipes for green tomato chutneys which will take up space in the cupboard for all eternity – or until we move house.</p>
- ...being so honest<p> Like when you pointed at my thighs, laughing, and said: 'jelly!' it was a turning point for me. Really.</p>
- ...being right next to me when I woke up this morning<p> The fact that you prised open my sleepy eyelid, and then tried to lick my eyeball, is by the by. Even if not quite THAT close up, just like every other morning of my life, you were still the very first thing I wanted to see.</p>
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