Soon she will not want me to be visible to her. She’ll want me miles away safely not looking, not knowing, not hearing anything. I’ll cramp her style. My skirts will cramp her style. She already hates it when I get song lyrics wrong. … More I Didn’t Think I’d Miss Being Needed. Ever.
“I think you’re beautiful,” said Wilbur. “Well, I am pretty,” replied Charlotte. “There’s no denying that. Almost all spiders are rather nice-looking. I’m not as flashy as some, but I’ll do. I wish I could see you, Wilbur, as clearly as you can see me.” “Why can’t you?” asked the pig. “I’m right here.” “Yes, … More Why, In Exactly 810 Words, Everyone Should Read Charlotte’s Web To Their Daughters. And Sons. And Nieces. And Nephews.
When I was 13 I was at the back of the bike shed – cliché I know – with my friend Maria and two boys from Skate World. We were lying on the grass, kissing. Her boy undid her trousers, pulled down her knickers and poked her. Then, when he had finished having a good … More Saying No Does Not Make You Less Attractive.
Before summer, we asked the ‘Dactyl what she wanted to be when she grew up. She said, after marrying her brother—which alarmed us slightly—that she wanted to “stay home and do nothing like Mummy.” Crikey. Nothing? That worried me more than wanting to marry Bob. “Best you get a job,” said the Dimple. “Inspire your … More The Space Pilot, The Sewer, The Jock And Her Lover.
When I overheard a friend talk about how beautiful our daughter was on New Year’s Eve, she looked at me like it was an affliction. “She’s more than three-year-old cute,” she said, the whites of her eyes large with pity. “She’s classically beautiful.” Oh dear. Not the classically beautiful daughter. We all know where that’s … More Trying Not To Screw Up The Daughter
Dear ‘Dactyl (daughter). Loud. That’s what the midwife said when you first popped out. So loud, apparently, the maternity ward hadn’t heard a newborn yodel like it in months. I refused to put a label on you – so soon – however, after your brother started to say, “Girls are loud, aren’t they?” your Father … More Girls Are Loud.