WELL I GUESS THIS IS GROWING UP

My friend was chatting to me, but I kept being distracted by the child who was blatantly staring at me. I could see her, out of the corner of my eye, watching me, unblinking, whilst she crammed cake into her mouth with both chunky fists. Just as I was beginning to wonder if I had a bogey or something on my nose, the cupcake with it’s sprinkles and glittery frosting was finished. “CAAAAAAKE!!!!! MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMM. ME CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE.” She screamed; throwing herself against the plush pink couch giving zero cares about the sticky mess she was leaving in her wake. Oh dear, that sofa looked expensive…

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GROWING PAINS.

A few weeks ago, at the end of a hike to the top of a volcano, we sat basking in the natural springs, dirty sneakers saturated with ash dust, thrown to the side of the rocks. 

“Did you bring your slippers for after?” the girl I was with asked me. 

I shook my head, cursing myself for being so unorganised. We had woken up late, cue me, throwing things into the back pack last minute. Water, sunglasses and sunscreen were the only essentials I had thought to pack in my sleepy haze, throwing in a swim suit last minute for good measure. 

She threw her head back and laughed. “See! This is how I know that I’m ready to be a mom!”. 

Her words have been playing in my head like an annoying song that gets jammed in the brain on repeat, ever since. How come at thirty years old, I wasn’t able to organise myself for a day trip, and yet here I was, daydreaming of a not so distant future that contained babies? I really ought to raise the bar to this girls’ level, I told myself. Yes… me, myself and I had work to do.

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