A routine Saturday

I wake up to a cuddle from my daughter. She has been up for 30 minutes now, and is happy to see papa wake up. "Papa! Come! Toy room", she shouts, in a voice that will brook no opposition. She does part of her puzzle, part builds a tower and speed reads "The Monkey and the Crocodile". Then she grows restless, and goes off to look for Mamma, who is pottering around in the kitchen.

After a while, Papa has to go and see what the car cleaner is up to. She jumps at the opportunity to go down. Once down, she takes off towards the swimming pool, reminding her guilty father about his promise to take her swimming the last evening. The swimming pool has not been cleaned yet, but she wants to shower in the stalls next to the pool. Papa explains that she cannot shower because she has all her clothes on, and if she showers, her clothes will get wet. She finds that a good reason to not shower.

She is happy that papa is down with her. She opportunistically tugs me into the main road. She is very careful, watching out for big cars that come our way. She pulls me along into the by-lane next to the society. The by-lane has people squatting on the road and using the hand pump to wash clothes, utensils, themselves. She walks right past the squalor - her target is the rooster that lives there. She sees a brood of hens and is delighted. "Cluck cluck", she tells them. She looks for the goats, but cannot find them. "Goats sleeping", she tells papa.

Mamma has gone for grocery shopping when we return. She looks around for her mother, then settles down with papa. She demands a boiled egg. She won't eat the yolk. "Green", she instructs again, pointing to the white of the egg. Papa and baby sit together in the verandah in companionable silence. After the egg, she wants an orange. I peel one carefully and feed her the pieces. She feeds me in turn. Wipes her hands on my freshly worn t-shirt. We both sit and look out at the cars below.

This is a Saturday like every other Saturday. Doubt seizes me. Will she remember all this? Will she love me when she grows up? I think about it for a minute, and tell myself that I don't really care about tomorrow. I ask her "Where is papa's favourite laddoo?" We both grin, as she points to herself. This is the best Saturday ever!