“Why?” a whiny voice behind me continued.
I had no need to turn around.
I knew exactly who it was.
The voice had been grating on my nerves all day.
Everything I said or did elicited the same response.
“Why?
“Pudding pie.” I answered, calmly at first.
“Why?”
“In the sky.” This rhyming game was quite fun.
“Why?”
“Flying high.” Plenty of words to use yet.
“Why?”
“With a guy.” Huh, what?
“Why?”
“In a tie.” Scraping the barrel here now.
“Why?”
“Beginning to cry.” (So am I).
“Why?”
“I cannot lie.” I really can’t.
“Why?”
“He may just die…”
“Why?”
“And so might I…”
“Why?” A pause. No reply.
“Mummy, why?” Still nothing.
“Mummy? Mummy! Please don’t die!”
Her sobs brought me back to earth with a bump. I rushed to embrace her.
“Don’t be a silly sausage! Of course I won’t die! Sorry sweetheart, Mummy’s just a little tired…”
A little piece I wrote the other day, dedicated to all those mothers of young children, who plough on, regardless, trying to keep their kids happy, and not show the world they are exhausted.
In the end, it starts to creep into life, that tiredness, but the love of those little beings, devoted to you, gives you the energy to keep on…
Could it be? My Blo-Jo is coming back…?
But I Smile Anyway... 