Saturday, 21 September 2019

"Are you going to make cake?"

the girl in the supermarket asked me.
I had just placed some small bottles of food dye on the counter ready for her to scan.
    "No," I told her and added that sort of overly-sweet roll out icing beloved of children. I then added the biscuits and the "sprinkles". Then I told her what was intended.
A small friend is having a birthday party today. I won't be there. I am not fond of birthday parties. His mother and I decided Ms W would be far more use keeping him occupied for a couple of hours while she gets ready.
   "I'd rather not be doing this at all Cat but he has been to so many parties. I've only invited the children he has been invited to..."
Yes, I knew what she meant.
Ms W doesn't mind. As long as I did the shopping she was happy to do the minding. They could decorate biscuits for the party. She does a very good job of those.  Her philosophy of "they look better with less" is one I approve of.   
    "Do you want a party?" is a question we asked Ms W each year until she turned twelve. The answer was always a very firm, "No." She couldn't tell us why just, "I don't want one." Her father would shrug and say, "Saves me a lot of bother" but I know it worried him. The year she turned twelve he told her, "If you want a party let me know."
Later she told me, "It's awfully sweet of him but he wouldn't have any idea and he couldn't do it by himself anyway. You need a mum for that sort of thing...and yes I know you would but you shouldn't have to and I really don't like parties when I have to go anyway."
I don't think she could have put that into words when she was younger but she must have sensed it somehow. 
Now she is a teenager and there is still no hint she wants a party. She gets on well with her classmates at school but I sense a reserve about her. At weekends she likes to be with her father.
   "I see the others all week. I like to see my Dad at weekends."
I handed over the biscuit decorating materials yesterday. She seemed pleased but I know she will, again, be thinking of what it might have been like if her mother was still there.
     

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