It’s been some time since I’ve actually contributed to the blog, although there are copious pages of scribbling waiting to be converted into readable text in due course. But today, my little girl inspired me to write a story telling the world what happened to her this typical Tuesday.
It was 4.45 when the Outlook reminder came up to tell us that Anya’s second MMR jab was due at 5pm. We’d forgotten of course, but luckily the surgery was only a 5 minutes’ drive away, so it was all still possible. As I looked at Clare’s face, I could tell she was not keen on taking her daughter to be stabbed in the arm twice, which is why I had been volunteered for almost all injections to date. It simply upset her too much.
I glanced at Anya who was sitting at the dining room table with grandma colouring in a thickly lined image with a large blue pen, oblivious to the discussion concerning her veins that was going on a few feet away. Realising that we only had minutes to spare and there was going to be no mind changing, I leapt into action. Continue reading “Innocence and Dancing Ducks”