all about me

 

I’m late to collect and children pass me in the street clutching paintings that drip glitter and feathers.

I see my daughter through the window.
Alone in the playroom.
Back to me.
Head down.

The frowning playleader nods me aside as my heart plummets.

“I’m afraid she hasn’t done an about me picture. She covered her hands in glue first thing and has then spent the morning picking it off.”

My laugh breaks her concentration and she runs over. Smiling. As we walk home her hand is slightly sticky. It tells me more about her than any picture ever could.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s