love - #1
I am at the pharmacy. It is a crowded, fluorescent hell. The buzzers are shrill and rude, and so are the people.
The somnolent murmur of activity is broken by an ecstatic cry.
"I love Daddy a lot!"
Chirpy little girl. She cannot be older than six.
"What about Mummy?" Mummy enquires tiredly. She is young, but her eyebags age her before her time. Her shoulders are hunched with the weight of the world.
"I love Mummy too!"
Mummy smiles obligingly. It seems a rather good answer -
"But I love Daddy more!" cries the girl.
Well then, maybe not. A child's honesty is a dangerous thing. Mummy is a bit surprised by this.
"How much more!"
The girl struggles to quantify the said difference. She bites her lip, raises then spreads her hands slowly. "I love Mummy this much," she mumbles, examining the space between them with interest(she goes slightly cross-eyed at this point). She then flourishes them! squealing, "And Daddy, this much!"
I cannot see Mummy's expression, but I do not want to be caught staring. I am sure, however, that she is in a fair amount of distress. There is an unmistakable hint of hurt and confusion in her voice.
"So why don't you love Mummy, why don't you love her as much as you love Daddy?"
"Daddy always plays with me, he always plays with me, he is here but you don't play with me and you're always busy and you have to do your things, your things and study..."
The girl trails off fearfully. She is finally aware of the hurt that she has caused. She is apologetic. She proceeds to bury her face in Mummy's dress.
I am lost in a flurry of emotions and thoughts. I hear little else.
----
The somnolent murmur of activity is broken by an ecstatic cry.
"I love Daddy a lot!"
Chirpy little girl. She cannot be older than six.
"What about Mummy?" Mummy enquires tiredly. She is young, but her eyebags age her before her time. Her shoulders are hunched with the weight of the world.
"I love Mummy too!"
Mummy smiles obligingly. It seems a rather good answer -
"But I love Daddy more!" cries the girl.
Well then, maybe not. A child's honesty is a dangerous thing. Mummy is a bit surprised by this.
"How much more!"
The girl struggles to quantify the said difference. She bites her lip, raises then spreads her hands slowly. "I love Mummy this much," she mumbles, examining the space between them with interest(she goes slightly cross-eyed at this point). She then flourishes them! squealing, "And Daddy, this much!"
I cannot see Mummy's expression, but I do not want to be caught staring. I am sure, however, that she is in a fair amount of distress. There is an unmistakable hint of hurt and confusion in her voice.
"So why don't you love Mummy, why don't you love her as much as you love Daddy?"
"Daddy always plays with me, he always plays with me, he is here but you don't play with me and you're always busy and you have to do your things, your things and study..."
The girl trails off fearfully. She is finally aware of the hurt that she has caused. She is apologetic. She proceeds to bury her face in Mummy's dress.
I am lost in a flurry of emotions and thoughts. I hear little else.
----
Labels: life
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