Hope.
In a fog-soaked world of blackest pitch the tiniest point of light shines bright.
I grasp his hand and we set our course, battling the demons that burst forth onto our path.
It has been an arduous, troubling journey but we are almost there.
We didn’t expect to find you.
But there you are.
And we are inordinately grateful.
Gingerly, anxious not to create a mattress-wave, I reach for the phone on my nightstand. I squirrel it away under the quilt and push a button, any button. Its face lights up and, squinting in pain, I focus for a nanosecond on the time.
04:12
Another night’s sleep destroyed. Rescue Remedy cannot touch the whirlwind dominating my head.
Only your arms.
Why do some people feel so much more entitled than others to have their way? Why do they feel that their behaviour, however despicable, is justified by their subjective realities? Why do some people turn into such revolting bullies, blindly following their destructive paths?
Take a step back.
Look at the bigger picture.
Get over yourselves.
The cornered fight back.
… of a world in which prejudice and judgment are unthinkable;
… of a place whose inhabitants are capable of perspective, objectivity and taking a step back to look at the bigger picture;
… of a village mentality on a global scale;
… of common sense prevailing over egocentric behaviour;
… of family being more than just another word;
… of peace, honesty, evolution, love…
… hope.
“Hold still!”
Tongue clamped firmly between lips in a grimace of concentration, I grasp a hank of hair and chop chunkily.
His head swivels slowly in a sly attempt to watch his brother play out of the corner of his eye.
“Hold STILL!”
I am not a hairdresser.
Still, the result is not half bad.
If I say so myself…
“I need biscuits!” (Actually, he said “biggits”, but I knew what he meant).
He forced his eyes as wide and puppy-dog as he could manage, my hale and hearty two-year old.
“I need biggits…” His shoulders drooped in mock-wilt. “I’m gettin’ very, very tinsel…”
“Huh?”
“I’m gettin’ very tinsel.”
Erm… Even my mummy powers of deduction fail on this one.
Defamation: “Issuance of false statements about a person that injure his reputation or that deter others from associating with him.”
Libel: “A false publication, as in writing, print, signs, or pictures, that damages a person’s reputation.”
Slander: “A false and malicious statement or report about someone.”
What do they all have in common?
It needs to be false to qualify.
I fix him with my sternest glare.
“If you don’t eat your tea, I am going to sit you on the stairs.”
He grins impishly.
“I’m counting to three,” I threaten. “One… Two…”
As I reach three, his older brother pipes up with a suggestion.
“Couldn’t we have a new number?”
His eyes are wide with hope.
“Like… Seven?”
Ingenious.
Our uncharacteristic ‘Big Freeze’ is over and the Mud Bath begun.
Today we ventured out into the woods, bewellingtoned and brave, for a mucky adventure; a cardboard box of boots in the back of the car.
They larked about, boys at play, free and happy.
He brought his camera and composed carefully.
Take a look for yourself: he’s over here.
The rain has washed away all but a lump of snowman corpse. His carrot nose lies rotting on the grass alongside a very soggy hat.
The sky is pregnant with grey and drizzly threat, the street shiny with the heavens’ nocturnal emissions.
Breakfast over, the day’s plans unexpectedly dashed, we must decide what to do.
I declare a pyjama day.
