April 2012
4 posts
Dad
Every evening, at 8pm, the father returns home from work. He says “hello”, then trots upstairs to “answer emails”. Last night, for the first time, I quietly followed in the footsteps of his curious nightly ascent.
It is said that we fill voids. We work or watch TV or go on the internet or chat or exercise. Nothingness has been misidentified as modern man’s predator, and we escape it by letting it...
The Morning Paints the Bedroom in a Shade of Grey
On Monday, the five year old says:
“Guess what I am thinking about.”
I guess cars.
“Wrong.”
I guess football.
“Wrong.”
I guess trees.
“Wrong.”
On Tuesday, the five year old says:
“Guess what I am thinking about.”
I ask if it’s the same thing she was thinking about yesterday. She says yes.
I guess Shops.
“Wrong.”
I guess gymnastics.
“Wrong.”
I guess Cheestrings.
“Wrong.”
On Wednesday, the five year...
All Innocence and Sin
Someone has removed the laces from my shoes.
“Where are my shoelaces?” I ask the five-year-old.
“I don’t know”, she says.
“Where are my shoelaces?” I ask the thirteen-year-old.
“I don’t know”, he says.
“Where are my shoelaces?” I ask the fourteen-year-old.
“I don’t know”, she says.
Hmmm.
“You haven’t seen my shoelaces, have you?” I ask the housekeeper.
“No”, she says.
“You haven’t seen my...
Out-foxed
The sun darts through a poky window and bathes a small section of matte granite surface in the kitchen. This is where I choose to stand, to make lunch. Through the portal also comes sound; a shrill shout from the five-year-old, who is playing outside:
“There’s a fox in the garden!”
I tell her to be nice to it and I slice the bread.
“It’s eating the plants!”
I tell her to move slowly towards it, so...
