We have come back from skating at the Oval. Or rather, Golden Boy and I have come back from watching the princess struggling on ice to keep up with her much faster skater friend. Still, we are all tired, and collapse into separate pockets of squashy space, paying no attention to each other.


It is after three, the winter sunlight casting bright stripes on the wall. I am on our huge soft bed, which I can’t get enough of since our return. The princess is on one couch, watching Glee. The Golden Boy is on another couch, playing a game. Smurfs, I think. The Glee episode is centred on Britney Spears, and snatches of her songs drift into the bedroom …Slaaaaave…I’m a slaaave for….. the high school bell, characteristic of Glee, rings, again and yet again, and the sunlit stripes creep higher up the wall. I turn the pages of my crappy satisfying detective story. The tinkling sound of the computer game mingles with the bell, and again, another song …oh baby baby…   I crack a roasted pumpkin seed between my teeth. In the bed. The children would have a fit if they saw, for no food is allowed in the bedrooms. Ever. But they do not notice- one is away in a forest, leaping and running with little blue white-capped cartoon creatures, the other is dreaming of stardom, her mind befuddled with too much pop music and stories ….my loneliNESSSSS is KILLING meee…. The sounds of my children’s playtime soothes my heart and reassures me that I am not lonely, I am well-beloved, I am a lucky, lucky woman…I must confess… I still belieeeeve…


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