21 nov. 2011

A bloodcurdling conversation with my six year old

Sunday evening, November 20th, five o'clock. It's misty and dark, and our street is smothered by a blanket of cloud as Michele (6) and I step on out bikes to go to Alice, who's playing with a friend. As Michele gets on his bike, headlights slice through the fog and as I scream "stopstopstop", Mickey breaks firmly and the car passes by with Michele looking worried over his shoulder.
As I join him, he says:
"Phew, I listened well, didn't I." (He tends to switch to English with me, when he tries to explain or discuss difficult subjects. I think this is because this 'scientific approach' is what he learns at school)
"Yes, you did. Good boy."
"If I hadn't, I would have died."
"Yes (I'm keeping it simple), and I wouldn't have liked that very much."
"Me too, it would have been painful, ehm, died."
"Yep, a painful death indeed."
"Yeah, because when a car hits you, you become all flat."
"Yes, and then your heart gets also flat, and then you can't breathe, and then you die."
"Ah" (trying the non-committal approach to stop this conversation. I don't know, images of flat Micheles while riding a bike in the dark somehow does not do my peace of mind a whole lot of good)
"Does blood get flat, mum?"
"No, honey, I don't think it does."
"What about your head, does that get flat when a car drives over it?"
"Oh, well, I am glad I stopped when you shouted, because now I am not dead."
"Yes, me, too!"

And as we approached the crossroads, I grabbed his neck like a mother cat carrying her young. Not quite ready yet to let him go.

1 opmerking:

  1. Yeah I can remember giving you a foot massage when we were on the train years ago. And that sealed my fate... Now I have perform my duties as foot slave to my wife now and then. But you're right; Pregnant and foot massage goes hand in foot....

    Nice post.

    Kiss from your Lil' Bro