Friday, 2 March 2012

She closed the door behind her and leant against it heavily, from the lounge came the familiar cheery music of toddler tv, from the kitchen the melodious thud of a tumble drier and from upstairs the sound of thousands of droplets falling from the shower, droplets not dissimilar to those falling on the door she leant upon. In the kitchen she washed her hands of the dirt that had settled on the bin lid and had transferred to her fingers. She watched the droplets of water as they fell from the tap and cascaded over her hands, each one stinging as the warm water replaced that of the bitter cold rain. She watched the water as it raced in circles around the sink, the droplets playing tag until they found ‘home’ in the drain.

 From behind her she heard the ‘thud’  ‘thud’  of a pair of chubby little feet as they left the settee and set off for an exploratory mission to find Mummy. The lounge door opened with a squeak and the footsteps quickened as the chubby little rocket propelled itself forward towards her back. On contact the warm, squidgy rocket nestled into her legs, grabbing at her thighs ‘Muuummmmmyyyyyy’ it wailed like a siren ‘Muuuuummmmmmmyyyyyyy’. She stiffened at the sound, waiting for the next request she’d be asked to fulfil. What would it be this time? Food? Drink? A different sickeningly cheery tv programme? ‘Love ooo’ said the Rocket with an ingenious smile that shouted ‘you weren’t expecting that were you?’ She looked down at her son, his conker brown hair fell backwards showing his full round face as he hung onto her leg and smiled up at her. That smile, it still did it, still melted her at times just when she needed it. She picked him up and he snuggled into her neck, all chubby fingers and cold nose, she held him letting his soft breath fall against her neck, trying to synchronise the rhythm of his rising and falling chest with her own.

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