Tuesday, 1 April 2014

"Daddy forgot my... sniff... tennis racquuueeeetttt..."

I just encountered something I'm unused to. There was definitely a flicker of something unfurling deep inside me.

On leaving the gym just now I encountered a small child. As this is Seaview and thus full of extremely rich yachting types I wasn't unduly surprised to find he was dressed like Peter Davison era Doctor Who. All cricket whites and jumper round his waist.

I was walking past when I realised he was crying. So I turned around and crouched down and asked him what was wrong.

Do you remember when you were a child and sometimes you cried so hard and so bitterly that you found that you couldn't actually speak? When every word gets somehow swallowed by the great gulps of air you have to take?

That's what was happening to this little dude. He can't have been more than three and he was so upset that he turned my heart. Usually it turns my stomach.

He eventually managed to choke out what was wrong. It is a very Seaview issue for a three year old to have to deal with.

"Daddy... snort, gulp... forgot... myyyy... gulp, wheeze, tennis racquuuuetttt."

He actually put his arms round my neck while I found his tennis coach (yes, really) who took it from there.

Does that count as a maternal instinct? Does it just mean I am, after all, human? Is it because I'm on my period? Just what is going on?

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