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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