The lion, the witch and the fridge
Most mornings my husband lets me sleep a little longer and takes my daughter for a stretch of time while he gets ready for work. What they do together depends, but usually includes a combination of finding their slippers, preparing and eating breakfast, nappy changing and making me a cup of tea. Sometimes, I fall back asleep and dream wildly and sometimes I don’t. But I nearly always lose my sense of ‘real’ time, like the Narnia children when they enter the wardrobe.
Today, when they brought me a cup of tea, it felt like they’d been gone for ages:
Did you have breakfast?
Did you change her nappy?
What have you been doing then?
Well… when she opened the fridge she saw the milk, and then she wanted to point at everything and for me to say ‘noooo’ until she pointed at the milk…..
My husband went on to explain their elaborate guessing game that had lasted who-knows-how-long.
On another morning I could have been annoyed at all the things not done, but today I marvel instead at his incredible ability to play with her, to follow her into the metaphorical wardrobe- or fridge- of her world and to lose track of the chores and the clock (or tick-tock as she calls it in both languages).
I wish I could join them there more often.