It was a cold winter morning
I taught her to hold the edges of her cuffs with her tiny fingers
while I screwed another woolly jumper on to her head
pulling her arms through another pair of sleeves
the rim of the undergarment slightly peeking through.
I wanted to spare her the discomfort of the first sleeve pulled up
and gathered at her elbow; she was almost three
and delighted with the new discovery, she did it every morning since
“shall I let go now mummy?”
Love makes us do that;
spare them the discomfort of things
life’s little troubles
the small anxieties often overlooked;
I wondered how many of life’s discomforts I’ll be able to spare her
I wondered if my remedies would continue to delight her
I wondered if I would have the remedy at all.
