Weaving in and out of the crowds of school children, i am lead, nay dragged by an eager mentalist trying to beat her older brother to the car.
As she hops from kerb to pavement into various parents walking in the opposite direction. I attempt to engage her in conversation, “so, how was your day…” I ask as she continues to hop, skip and jump her way to the car. Oblivious to the various obstacles and people in her path, but she’s too focused to get to the car to give me a coherent answer.
I load them up in the car, strap them in and set off on our journey home. Whilst in the car, she promptly empties her school book bag and shows me the book we will inevitably be reading later that night. I try once again to get her to tell me about her day “so… My young mentalist, what did you eat during lunch? Bugs? With a side of monkey brain?” Queue some hysterical laughter ending with a shrug of the shoulders and a “I can’t remember?”. “What?!” I respond incredulously “how can you not remember??” At this point she stays silent looking out the window, as I verbally prod and poke for attention she gives me the old “I don’t want to talk to you anymore daddy… I’m thinking…” With that we drive the rest of the way home in silence (which takes around 5 minutes).
We get home, I let her out of her seat and she skips to the front door, swiftly followed by myself and her brother. As I open the door I ask “would you like a quick snack my dear mentalist? Some fruit? Lobster? A yoghurt maybe?” She looks at me with those puppy dog eyes tilts her head to the side to complete the effect and asks innocently “can I watch my ipad?” I give her my best ‘oh hell no!’ look. Which promptly results with the mentalist stamping into her room with a scowl on her face. Apparently (so sayeth the mentalist while crawling into her pop up castle) I never let her do anything she wants, nor do I ever let her watch anything she wants to watch…
I wait outside the castle patiently waiting to be invited in, she pops her head out and advises I should knock. So I oblige and I am invited in, not the most spacious of places I make myself comfortable. “Sooo… Do you come here often?” She giggles and I know I’m forgiven, so we sit, we drink imaginary tea and eat imaginary cupcakes. And finally we talk about school, what she’s learnt, new rhymes she’s picked up and what her friends have been doing.
This is nice I think.. As she talks about her recent painting endeavours, showing me her once white tshirt now covered in blue paint. But it’s at this point I can no longer feel my knees or my legs, I need to prep dinner I think and she needs to be fed a snack “so tell me again, what did you eat at school?” I’m met with a frown, crossed arms and a subtle response of “I’m thinking daddy…”, “okay well il leave you to it then my dear mental one ” as I crawl for the exit. “No daddy let me finish thinking ….” I sit reluctantly as I watch her think, dolls in hand having a tea party. I think to myself (as I try and retain feeling in my legs) whether I’d have to do the same again tomorrow, and how this castle ain’t big enough for the both of us…
This is Mr J signing out