My girls are in after-school care for one afternoon a week at present, because I’m doing a bit of lecturing and tutoring at one of the local universities. Usually, as I head towards school and home, I have enough time to stop at the local supermarket and pick up whatever fresh food I need for dinner before collecting the girls, but tonight, several students stayed on to talk to me, so I was late getting away, and late getting up towards school. And that meant that I doubled back to the supermarket after collecting the strangelings.
As I got out of the car, and got a bag out of the boot (no supermarket bags in SA anymore – you have to take your own), I asked the girls who was coming in with me and who was staying in the car. For a few moments, it seemed that all of them would stay put, but then the elder Miss Eight got out with a sunny smile, and said, “I’ll come and help you, Mum.”
And very helpful she was too – carrying the basket, racing ahead to get a ticket for the deli queue, keeping me company (comfortable – typo correction). Then, as we got the last item… “Please, Mum, could we have some chips?”
Well, I thought. Why not. Dinner will be a while, and it’s been lovely having her with me, and why shouldn’t they have treats every now and then.
Then after dinner I remarked to Mr Strange Land that the elder Miss Eight had been most helpful.
“Oh, yes, Mum,” she said. “We take turns to…”
“Shush!” said Miss Ten, urgently.
“… to come in so we can get you to buy us a treat.”
Sprung! I can see now that it’s not my company at all, and that the momentary pause in the car arises due to a silent but intense negotiation as to who is on duty this time.
I’ve been had.
**********
Really, I’m laughing about it. It’s one of those moments of parenting delight, finding out about the kids’ plans and strategies. And the elder Miss Eight actually was helpful, and good company, as are her sisters.
