Twelve years old

Twelve years old

Hanging around the kitchen

Getting underfoot

Pleading to be noticed

Fingering the houseplants

Squeezing leaves

Poking the soil

Checking if they need water

When she watered them yesterday

‘They are fine…don’t over water

You’ll drown them.’

She picked up a banana

Used it as a gun

Blew her brains out

Eyes rolling to the sky

Bored to tears

‘Can I clean the car?’

She curled a strand of hair

Too cute to be caught dead cleaning cars

I would have thought

‘Sure I said when do you want to start?’

‘Can you pay me?’

‘Of course. I wouldn’t expect you

To do it for free.’

‘Can you give me a tenner and

I’ll wax on wax off.’

She laughed

So did I

‘Okay, when do you want to start?

‘Can you give me half up front?’

Gosh she is learning

‘Oh I see, a proper little businesswoman.

Have you got something to spend it on?”

‘I thought I could go to Pioli’s ice cream bar

For a double scoop of chocolate chip

And I would come straight back.’

‘Okay, but I will walk with you.’

‘Oh…no dad…I am nearly thirteen

I can walk to the shop by myself.’

I knew the song

And had played it myself at that age

‘So who will be there then?

‘Nobody…not really just kids from school’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Oh it’s not a boy Dad…just my friends

‘Sure. Of course…yes.’

She laughed, turned a brighter shade of red

She is growing up

But not yet old enough

For an ice cream bar

On the High Street

‘Maybe next time you clean the car.’

She shrugged

Turning away, toward her bedroom

‘I don’t feel like doing it now.’

‘Okay then maybe tomorrow.’

‘Promise..?’

‘I meant for the car.’

‘Oh…dad.’