Thursday, December 6
"No, you've got to jump when the rope hits the floor, not when you swing it over your head."
She tried again and the rope got caught in her skirt, "Show me again, Mummy."
I took the rope from her and slowly showed her how to swing it over her head and jump over it when it hit the floor.
"What do you want for Christmas this year?"
"I want snow for Christmas!" She attempted to swing the rope over her head, backwards instead of forwards.
"Oh, well I doubt we'll find any snow around here. What else?"
"Ummm, a horse."
"Ha! And where would you keep it?" I knew I shoudn't have read her that book about a horse that turns into a unicorn.
"I think it will fit in my bedroom. It can live there."
"I don't think thats a good idea, its cloppy hooves would annoy the guys in the flat below."
"Can I have a white cat then?"
"No, Mummy! A real white cat."
"I want a cat too," said Carlo, as he appeared from round the corner." Nik, can you get these splinters out of my hand please?"
I peered at the palm of his hand and counted six tiny splinters. "What on earth were you doing?" A thought occured to me as I remembered what he had been doing at work, "these splinters, they're not from coffins are they?" I started to push his hand away but he shook his head and promised me that they were from a plant. I sighed and got up to find a needle and tweezers.
"I miss having a cat in the house," he said, while I pulled his hand closer to the light. "Oww! Careful, that hurt!"
"Well you should wear gloves at work," I said, pulling out another sliver of wood from his finger, "I want a dog, by the way."
" No, a cat."
"Cat, Mummy! A white one!" So I was outvoted then. I successfully pulled the rest of the splinters out of his hand and pushed him away, "get yourself some new gloves, gardening ones, not woolly ones. What are we doing tomorrow? You're off aren't you?"
" No," Carlo sighed, "I've got to help Dad with the bone-washing, I can't leave him to do it all himself, besides there's a funeral as well."
Lovely. I know it's a terrible thing to say but I'm getting really fed up with people always dying the day before Carlos day off. If I was the mayor of this town I would ban people from dying on Sundays and Wednesdays. I'd put up posters to inform people. Italian mayors can make silly rules like that. It would probably work better that a work contract that promises two days off a week.
"OK, we can get a cat. And if you want a white one Skye, it might take a bit longer to find. You'll just have to keep looking for kittens until you find the right one. But, we're not even going to start looking until we come back from our holiday, because we can't leave a kitten alone for six weeks. OK?"
"Alright Mummy." And the skipping lessons recommenced.
at 12:10 PM