Pretty Hair

"Daddy," You prepare yourself – she said it in that questioning tone, which means that, even though you are currently tucking her in, you won't be able to leave the room for another 15 minutes; you'll have to answer her question, and the various follow on questions about your answer to the previous. You look down at her, praying that she'll see the bags under your eyes and take mercy on you. You know this is stupid – at 5, she still seems to think you're some kind of super human, who only needs her company to survive; she wouldn't even give you chance to break for meals, if given the choice. "Where..." You cringe, hoping you're not going to have to tell the stork or baby store story. With this amount of energy, you really can't be bothered with a question that requires you to use your imagination. "Did you meet Mummy?" Thank god for that.

"At work," You lean down and kiss her forehead, willing for this to be enough information, but knowing that it wouldn't be.

"With Uncle Leo?"

"Yes, he was our boss,"

"Did you share lifts?"

"With Leo?"

"With Mummy?"

"Yes, when we had the same times,"

"That why you married her?"

"Did I marry Mummy so that I could share her car?" She nods. "Of course. Night, night darling." You stand up quickly and make your way over to the door.

"You didn't marry Mummy 'cause you love her?" You turn around and look at her face – her pouting, confused and upset face – the face that melts you on the spot and leaves you wrapped around her little finger (she hasn't realised how to take advantage of this yet, and you hope she never does.)

"Well, that too." You sit down at the edge of her bed again. "I married Mummy because I love her – not just to save petrol. Ok?"

"Why?"

"I just told you why; because I love her," You repeat, calmly.

"No. Why do you love her?"

"Sweetie," You pause, and think; something which is becoming increasingly difficult in direct proportion to your exhaustion. "If I told you all the reasons why I love Mummy, we'd be here for so long that you'd miss your school trip tomorrow – and we wouldn't want that." And Daddy will get to sleep quicker if we don't.

"Ok." You feel a surge of hope – has her questioning stopped? It was quicker than you expected. "Then, what's your favourite?"

"My favourite reason for loving Mummy?" Another small nod. "She's my one and only best friend." She knows me better than anyone in the world.

"That's a rubbish reason." You sigh. "Ben's my best friend – we're not Mummy and Daddy."

"Fine." You run a hand through your greying hair. "She has very pretty hair."

"That's a good reason." You think if you were less worn out, you would try explaining that love cannot and should not be based on pretty hair, or looks of any kind – but as it is, you'll let her carry on with her Disney Princess fantasy for a little longer.

"It's the best. Good night," You kiss her forehead again and stand up. "Love you,"

"Love you," You tickle her nose and chuckle as she crinkles it up. "Good night, Mummy," You look up to see Nikki smiling in the doorway.

Oh, shameless, pointless, rambling fluff, how I love thee.