My boys,
Here are some things I thought I’d store
for you.
Yesterday, Cam, you asked me, ‘Mom, why
did Noah’s boat land on Mount Aromat?’ Salt of the earth, I guess…? J
We also had the following conversation,
on the way home from taking Lola for a run at St Alban’s:
Cam: Why did Jesus make some animals nocturnal?
Me: [Explanation involving
nocturnal and diurnal habits of animals, ending with…] So like, people, we’re
diurnal ‘cause we play in the day and sleep at night.
Cam: No. That’s not actually right. We also sleep after lunch.
This morning Dad left to ride Sani2C.
Cam, you prayed for him when we said goodbye. Brave shining star, what a big
man you are becoming.
This afternoon Thandi was in an awful
accident and you were both with Granny and Grandpa when they rushed to the scene.
I’m glad you didn’t really understand what had happened, and I’m proud of you
for waiting patiently while the ambulance and the police did sad and serious grownup
things.
Tonight we ate lasagne but it was too
quiet without Dad and blowing out the supper candle wasn’t hilarious like it
usually is.
Scott, you are a little man of few (actual)
words, except of course for your astounding repertoire of animal sounds, which
you can witness here. But you jabber
in earnest and with great enthusiasm. This morning while you dribbled rusk
crumbs in our bed you scolded Cam with vociferous intensity and a very
intentional index finger. Cam retaliated by quizzing you – in Afrikaans – on
all your body parts (‘Waar is jou maag /
kop / rug / ens.). We were a bit shocked when you obediently and correctly pointed
out the relevant bits without so much as batting your long blonde lashes.
Speaking of those lashes. Gosh. They will
be my undoing. You are frikkin’ naughty. And your big soft blue eyes plead
innocence as you climb wine racks and railings, couches and counters. We have
to check dustbins, appliances and flowerbeds for things you’ve tossed. Yet you
are equally mesmerised by the quiet adventure of books, and when you are
worryingly quiet, you are as often immersed in slow, gentle, ponderous page-turning
as you are in digging up my sweet peas. Sweet child of mine.
Taste and see that the Lord is good. – Psalm 34:8
Sleep tight now,
All my love
Mom
xx
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