Friday, September 26
“I need to talk to you,” Carlo said, walking into the kitcen and closing the door behind him. “Mmm, what’s that? Can I eat it?”
“No!” I cried, whipping the experimental vanilla cream bath melts away from his eager fingers. “What have I done now?” I asked frowning, wondering if he had already noticed the tiny little scratch on the car from my parking effort earlier on.
“I just worry about when you go out in the car,” he said, peering into the fridge. “I’m not saying that you drive badly, you know that, but I just worry, especially when you take Skye with you. What would I do if you had an accident and both died? I’d be completely alone!”
“Wow!” I said, carefully, “so what are you saying exactly?”
“Well, I know I can’t stop you from going out in the car, but maybe it would be better if we all went out together.”
He obviously had not thought this conversation through in the slightest because then he said something really stupid.
“I mean,” he continued, “at least if you went out by yourself when she's at school it wouldn’t be so bad if you died because then I would still have her….Not that I wouldn’t be terribly upset, but, er, you know what I mean?”
I stood there with my mouth slightly open, trying to figure out exactly how offensive he had been, knowing that he didn’t mean it that way but not sure of what his point was.
“Um, you do realise,” I told him slowly, as if I was talking to an imbecile, “that it is perfectly normal and acceptable in most places for a mother to drive in a car with the children strapped into the backseat? In fact, that is how a lot of children actually get to school. Are you asking me not to go out in the car anymore without you?”
“No, of course not, I know I couldn’t do that, it’s just… oh forget it! You’re probably not listening to me anyway!” And he stomped out the kitchen, muttering to himself.
at 3:31 AM