I’m thinking of getting rid of my ‘word cloud’ taggy thingy. It’s making me feel guilty because Maxi-Taxi is easily the biggest thing on it which leads me to believe that I write about him way more than Cappers and The Badoo. Cue Mother Guilt (no Working required).
It doesn’t help that Cappers has always been a self-raising child. Even as a baby she self-weaned, got rid of her own dummy and toilet trained herself. We’re really just here to be a rapt audience.
She’s an extremely independent, pleasing child. Rather smug, a bit bossy, a total dobber, but very much a sweetheart. “Look mumma,” she will coo. “I gave The Badoo one of my dollies to play with.” Actually, she has a voice on her that could cut glass, so it’s actually more like “LOOK MUMMA,” she will screech. And if she’s standing too close, you can’t help but wince. But it’s a small price to pay for all the charm that is the Cappers.
She’s a Kid Who Can. Cappers just gets it and gets on with it. Imagine my delight after struggling through a season of rugby with Maxi-Taxi (what is he doing down there, gardening? You kick the ball, Maxi, the ball. Oh, that’s lovely, honey, you’re a blue tongue lizard looking for insects in the grass, now go and listen to the ref, sweetie) to find myself at gymnastics with Cappers dazzling everyone with her co-ordination, interest and prowess.
I was beaming, brimming with pride. I’m the mum of a Kid Who Can, I congratulated myself. I was leaning back basking in my child’s amazing canness when all of a sudden a stricken look came over her face. I heard a caw of what sounded like ‘toilet’ and then, the unthinkable. All over the super-absorbent gymnastics mats went that puddle, that river, that Amazon of wee. Dear god, how much had the Kid Who Can had to drink this morning? Was the humiliation ever going to end?
“She’s really never done anything like this before,” I called to the wincing audience as I raced a still weeing Kid Who Can’t Hold On through to the bathrooms. “Really, not even when she was TOILET TRAINING HERSELF AT 2… DID YOU HEAR ME? AT TWO! HERSELF!”
Now look at me. Here’s the lovely, capable Cappers and I’ve chosen to tell you the only story I know of when she was the kid who couldn’t. It just proves that when things are good, there isn’t really a whole lot to say. Have you noticed that?