At Least I Have All My Own Teeth
Well, back to that other life, the one without grandparents to entertain the seven year old, the one where you wake up one morning and the dirt fairy has been, leaving a thin film of grime all over the house, and magically making all the clothes jump into the dirty washing basket at once. The life where the cat suddenly has fleas, and the flea medicine disagrees with her insides, and you are woken at 6.45 am to the news, 'Mum, the cat's been sick again.' (Incidentally, I married a magnificent man, he sorted that one) The life which for a whole week revolves around extra ballet rehearsals, requests for extra ballet gear, new ribbons to be sewn on ballet shoes, bits of bling to be sewn on costumes, and hooks and eyes which were meant to be sewn on costumes, that have now disappeared. The life where you hear sentences like, 'Mum, I have a tutor group breakfast tomorrow at the museum cafe at 8 o'clock, then I have a class trip to the university for the day, here is the form to sign, can you drive me pleeeeeease.' (at least she sweetened the deal with a batch of choc chip cookies) That is also the morning that The Man leaves on a business trip at dawn, The Boy goes off to the snow for the day at dawn, and the little girls somehow have to get to school as well.
It's also the life where the plum blossom on the neighbours' tree is so icicle-white against the impossibly blue spring sky that it makes your eyes hurt, and the sun is so shiny that every leaf is sparkling, and the mini peach trees are blossoming at the same time as the forget-me-nots...
It's also the life where the plum blossom on the neighbours' tree is so icicle-white against the impossibly blue spring sky that it makes your eyes hurt, and the sun is so shiny that every leaf is sparkling, and the mini peach trees are blossoming at the same time as the forget-me-nots...
And when life gets a little tedious, it always seems to throw up moments like these:
Yesterday I was standing in line at The Vegie Shed, go-to place for local vegie bargains, and I had my trolley piled up as usual with 10kg bags of spuds and onions, and giant bags of cheap apples to keep the hordes happy. The old man in front of me was jolly and white-bearded, and I smiled at him. He fixed me with his piercing blue eyes, leaned towards me and whispered conspiratorially, 'Always try to keep your own teeth, dear.'
I assured him I would indeed endeavour to do so.
Comments
As for the dirt fairy - fie on her
! - I wouldn't call her a fairy at all, because I think fairies should be nice.
I like the way you finish with the lovely things life "throws up," which contrasts with the cat throwing up earlier in your post. (Do you folks Down Under use that verb phrase for that kind of sickness?)
Eat a cookie for me!
frances
dig in, I love the spring here, it is such a joy after the long winter, if only it were warmer...