“If Seph becomes my boyfriend or not, or if someone else does, it doesn’t mean I have to take some of the love I have for you and give it them. It just means I have more love to give, not that anyone gets any less.” I stroked her hair and wondered how I’d managed to create something so precious.
“Oh.” She still looked puzzled. “Do you want a boyfriend, Mummy? I know Auntie Liv does.”
Shit. What’d she overheard my sister saying?
“It depends on who would be my boyfriend. It’s nice to have someone that you like and who likes you, and to do things together, like have meals or go out.” Why wasn’t there a parenting book that contained guidance for conversations like this?
“But we can do that. Or you and Auntie Liv can.”
Oh, holy fuck.
“You’re right, you can do that with friends, but a boyfriend or a girlfriend’s different.”
She nodded. “Because you want to kiss them?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Yes.”
“Is kissing nice, Mummy?”
I wanted to die.
It wasn’t nice if you were kissing Michael Mountford.
“It should be nice. If you kiss someone you like and who likes you.”
The nose wrinkled again.
“Do you want to kiss Seph?”
There just weren’t enough cuss words.
“Yes.”
Her mouth moved into a perfect ‘O’, as if she’d just learned a life changing secret.
“Mummy, can we have a dog?”
The joy of four-year-olds.
“No. We cannot have a dog.”
“But why?”
I was pretty sure there was some correlation between knowing that I wanted to kiss Seph and the dog thing coming up again.
“For all the reasons I’ve said before. It would be on its own too much and I’d have to walk it. When you’re old enough to walk it by yourself, we can talk about it again.” Which would be sometime in the month of never.
“Okay. I’m going to call it Scott.”
I squinted. That was a new one. “Why Scott?”
“Because that’s my boyfriend’s name.”
For the love of goats.
“Oh. Let’s talk more about this tomorrow.” When I’ve calmed down again and come up with a game plan, and discovered who the little shit is and hired an assassin.
