So we’re past the daisies, and not quite to the peppertree, and the conversation turns, as it very often does, to Pokemon, and I say
hey! I just found out there’s a Pokemon trainer called ThirdCat
and they say, not quite in unison
it’s spelt differently
and then little-boy-who-sometimes-comes-home-with-us says
my neighbour’s called ThirdCat…the one who lives upstairs
so of course I say
really? is she as cool as me?
and he stops
and his eyes are as clear as his skin
and he bites at his bottom lip
and he pulls at the strap of his bag
before he gives himself a tiny nod and says
she’s got a carpet python.
And then he looks down
and we take two steps
and he says:
she lets me hold it sometimes.
I scratch the back of my neck and notice that my fingernail catches in my hair and I say
who wants an ice block when we get home?
lol… and there the rest of us real mums go!
you are quite a poet . . .
damn her.
Pythons will usually win.
Oh, that’s hard to beat. But kids DO love food, and I find ice blocks are always a hit. So I’m sure you’re up there!
brilliant
oh, and I wish you were my next door neighbour.
*That* was *hilarious*
I thought that was beautiful and wistful.
I so love your writing.
A carpet python. You lost to some serious cool, at least.