She said it last week …
Not to me
Not to her father
Not to her wonderful Godmother
Not to her Uncle or her Aunts or her paternal Grandmother
Not to one of her toys… not even to her milky (she talks alot to my breasts before and after nursing generally along the lines of “Yay milky” before kissing them and then feeding happily)
No … it was to someone else;
Hope ran in to give Granby a kiss goodnight last week. She buried her face in the crook of Granby’s arm and rested her head there, then she looked up, “I love you Granby”, planted a kiss on the curve of her elbow and then rested her head again.
It made me smile… Hope adores her father, she idolises her Godmother and talks endlessly about her friends, her Uncle, her Granny and her Aunties but the relationship between Hope and her Granby, my mother, has always been a very special one. They are a gang, they are on exactly the same wavelength and they chortle at the same things, when they’re together, I’m totally secondary to proceedings … and now she’s found a way to articulate how she feels.
“I love you too Hopey Pope, now run along and go to bed, your Mummy’s waiting for you”, came the response, the generous selfless response.
That made me smile too.
