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Old Man With A Handbag

"When I grow up," observes Zoe, "I will be a mummy and Theo will be a daddy". I consider pointing out that it is not quite so simple, that there are adults who cannot have children, adults who decide not to have children, adults who do not actually make a decision but because they don't meet the right person or because of circumstances - work, finances, health, whatever - just don't end up having children. However, she is only three and we are approaching the nightmare of municipal planning that is Lewisham Roundabout so I just say, "Right."

"Mummies have handbags," Zoe continues, "but daddies don't have handbags."

I glance at my man-bag lying on the passenger seat and decide this has gone far enough. (It is always the small things we focus on, the assaults upon personal vanity rather than the those against principle.) "I have a handbag," I point out.

Zoe revises her formula. "Mummies and grandpas have handbags," she decides.

I am tempted to continue the discussion but people are hooting their horns behind me so I just say, "Right" again and we set off across the roundabout, a little girl with firm opinions and an old man with a handbag.

This post first appeared on Dreaming In Text, please read the originial post: here

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Old Man With A Handbag


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