Friday, January 18, 2013
The other night, Zephie and Pippi were having a quiet play before bed.
I heard crying from the bedroom and unusually, it came from the eldest of my two rug-rats.
I entered the room to find my darling daughter wielding a plastic golf club above her head. Zeph was cowering in the corner, crying.
She had whacked him over the head with said club (lady baby in the bedroom with the golf club).
As Zeph recounted the preceding events, he told me 'She thought my head was a drum and she beat it'.
In those words I heard complete and utter innocence as well as unspeakable grace.
It struck me, at what point do we learn to ...... be cynical?