The necessity for our daughter, Kit, to convalesce following surgery to remove her four wisdom teeth has created a transient blip, like a parallel universe.
As mother and daughter, these precious voids where time seems to stand still are seldom experienced anymore, so the last three days together at our island house, filled with fireside afternoon naps, reading, ‘in jokes’, binge-viewing, and long, comfortable silences have been blissful.
Our streaming list has been extensive, with re-watching Twilight being the highlight that provided us both with an ironic chuckle. Kit was heavily influenced by the vampire movies when she was an early teen. The long, moody stares of the teenage characters gave rise to her own brooding/angry emo phase. And wasn’t that fun to live through!
Predictably, the current two-tier economy of chewers vs the masticatory-challenged has divided the household somewhat. Doctor’s orders are for soft foods, and fortunately, with winter upon us, soups and tagines have a strong presence in my kitchen.
There’s not much I won’t put in a NutriBullet, but I drew the line at liquefying the ‘chewer’s’ Sunday lunch for her: a wagyu, bacon, and Jarlsberg burger on a brioche bun. Sorry, Kit. On the flip side, I did aid and abet the reclassification of vodka as a soft food. Not my best parenting moment.
Her newly acquired swollen cheeks are taking me right back to those chubby baby face days, filled with wet wipes and juice poppers, park visits and sandpits, runny noses and buttery Vegemite kisses, all blurred together from one bout of daycare-induced gastro to the next.
With each expression of love that I give her, I replenish her strength, readying her to tackle semester two and the stresses of ‘adulting’. I know it’s the little things I do that matter in the end.
