Simon comes home early tonight. He offered to stay home and look after me and Tash, but I insisted he go to work. He loves it there, at the playcentre, he always comes home happy from a day's work looking after the kids. He's an early childhood teacher, and I can see the job fits him just right. But tonight, he comes home looking worried. "I couldn't stand staying there worrying about whether you and Tash were okay," he says as he walks into the lounge, and then leans down to give me a kiss on the cheek, promptly moving on to check on Tash. It's sweet, the way he cares so much.
"We're okay, love," I say, as he walks over to the kitchen to put the kettle on. I've got Tash's cot next to the couch, and she's sound asleep, her face so soft and peaceful. I can't believe all this sometimes. It seems too good to be true- Me, married to Simon Snow! With a beautiful baby daughter!
Simon has come and sit down with me on the couch, and is touching my forehead softly with the back of his hand.
"Are you sure you're okay, Baz," he says, "you seem awfully warm."
"Trust me, Simon, I'm okay. It's just the flu. I'll be back up and working within a couple days."
"Alright," he replies, his eyebrows wrinkling a little, "but you tell me if anything's wrong, if anything gets worse, alright?"
"Of course, love."
He gets up and comes back in a couple minutes with two silky brown, lightly steaming cups of tea. He wraps his arm around his arm around me, and I sink into my husband's soft and stable arm, sipping my tea, my daughter sleeping soundly to my right.
Aleister Crowley, I'm living a charmed life.