The bed required three cushions.
Was flanked by two tables, but this was okay,
because together they made three pieces of furniture.
There were only two windows. So she hung a painting on the wall.
This left one wall bare, but one was better than two,
though not as good as three.
(Don’t even get her started on four.)
She had three cats. Two slept on the bed, one preferred the couch.
This was not ideal, but no matter how many times she moved the cat
…he always moved back.
Her husband was one man. (Not three.) This was also not ideal,
for she liked to make love three times in a row
and her husband had to draw the line somewhere.
At night, she would shower for three minutes,
take three sips of water and lay in bed smiling and dreaming
of triangles, tripod fish and triple goddesses.
She scooped her slight belly, hoping for triplets
and praying she wouldn’t
I wish I’d had my proper camera on me to capture this beautiful image but my iPhone was better than nothing – and I had to move fast, before that cloud floated past me like a good idea…
‘I buyed it,’ said Little Girl.
‘No you didn’t, he gave it to you,’ said Mother.
‘But I buyed it!’
‘No, sweetie, he gave it to you.’
‘No, Mummy, I’m playing…’
‘Oh I see, it’s a game.’
‘I buyed it.’
‘But do we say buyed it or bought it?’
‘We say I did buy it.’
‘I bought it.’
‘I did bought it.’
‘Well – it’s tricky isn’t it?’
‘Tricky for mums!’
Eavesdrop and share your own piece of magic dialogue…
…as my mother used to say, when I was being an obnoxious teenager. And so it happens, a good title for this post.
Why do artists constantly paint or draw themselves? In my youth, I put it down to self-involvement. Now I realise it’s because we’re the only beings on hand twenty-four hours a day.