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The Mother of All Senses

25 February 2008

Perhaps it’s the way females are wired…

But sometimes I can be frying dinner, while chopping vegetables, with the phone perched on my shoulder, chatting to my girlfriend. The kids are playing in a room, Radiohead is blasting in the background, over the noise of my neighbour who is mowing the lawn.

Suddenly I realise that the kids have made no sound in the last 3 minutes, and it’s a kind of quiet that can only mean one thing – THAT THEY HAVE CLIMBED UP ONTO THE SHELF, PULLED OUT THE SCISSORS AND ARE NOW CUTTING UP THEIR BED SHEETS TO MAKE BANDAGES FOR THEIR TEDDY BEARS.

I’m constantly amazed by how I manage to KNOW THESE THINGS, AND BE RIGHT.

I wish I could boast of a marvellous sense of bonding felt between mother and child… but no. It was simply putting pieces together.

Earlier the oldest kid wanted 5 bandaids for their “game”, to which I said NO.

Then later, they asked to use the scissors and sticky tape, to which I said NO.

Then they asked whether their bed sheets were brand new, to which I said NO.

Figuring kids out is not hard.

It’s just scary.