Quick bath, slurp of tea, working face on, three pairs of shoes on the mat. Sergeant Major toddler bellows, “Now, Mummy!” and it’s big sister to the rescue (Vest and pants already – good girl!) with silly faces, Teddy dance. Soar downstairs, post stubby legs into highchair.
Porridge spoon, percussion spoon, conducting spoon; toasty soldiers, toasty triangles, great big Mummy toast. Coats on (“Sleeves gone to Scotland, Mummy!”), strap in, brake off, big push and they’re off! Blast of autumn, scudding clouds, worried face asks, “Did we beat that clock, Mummy?” Mummy shakes her half-dry hair and laughs. “Sausage, we smashed it!”
M J Lewis©2015
To misquote a phrase, cats have owners, toddlers have staff. With my son turning twenty, this is for me a piece of historical fiction. To anyone for whom it is contemporary fiction I will say it’s exhausting, but it doesn’t last forever. Also, these quiet autumn mornings, I’ve realised that, whereas I used to think I was helping my children get ready in the morning, they were actually the ones helping me.
For a merry round of 100-word Friday fiction please try this link, on any day, including indeed Friday. Congratulations are due to Rochelle on leaving behind a job and taking up a vocation. All the best Rochelle! Thanks also to Ted Strutz for the photo.