Now, walking home with the not-yet teenager, chatting. Hey, look, it’s five o’clock already and there’s still light in the sky, it’ll soon be spring, long days, lots of fun, do you fancy trying something new this year, maybe get some new rollerskates.
My job, stay normal, grounded. Not too difficult, years of practice, knowledge painfully acquired that no other way works, when a woman’s hormonally jangled, if you take her on, you pass through a meatgrinder and lose the argument anyway. Male forbearance, a small price to pay for not having to go through it myself. All well rehearsed, just have to apply it.
Passing a coffee shop, looking through the window, seeing young people looking cool. My daughter also noticing. Hey darling, would you like to stop for a hot chocolate? A departure from our routine. My daughter’s face lighting up. Then thinking again. School uniform. Being seen in a cool place with her dad. Maybe not.
Continuing our walk together, both of us in silence now. Me thinking, I’d like to keep communications open, say to her, oh, your mother told me, well done. Keep it light, don’t make a big thing of it. But the years of experience nudging. It might be no big thing for me, for her it’s huge, touch on the subject and it could set off a box of firecrackers. Leave it for another day.
Arriving home, putting on the kettle to make tea. My daughter throwing her bags aside, tripping over them, banging her elbow against a wall. Looking up to see if I’d seen. But experience kicking in again, one of the mugs suddenly discovered to have a strange thing that needs fixing, our eyes not crossing, no explanations needed.
Putting out the mugs of tea, watching the curls of steam, thinking, men, women, sometimes there’s a chasm between them that can’t be bridged, wisdom lies in recognizing that and not even trying.
