Son says " Mummy, why can’t I fly?"
" no wings" she replies.…
Mummy says " close your eyes"
“it doesn’t work like that” he replies
" yes it does" says she
Son says “my imagination died long ago with my inner child”
Mummy says “does that mean, virginity”
“No” says he
Mummy says “what killed your innerchild then”
“the word RANGA” says he
he is reflecting now on the balcony, telling me this story about how the teacher said there was no wittness, so you can’t prove.
“fucken wankers” says he
“oh bitch” says he
as he inspects the kitchen cupboards which he is currently cleaning
Mummy says “I only had to ask you twice”
“what you write” says he
he now stares over my shoulder
gives mummy a smack in the head
it is playful
“I feel like pasta salad” says he
then heads back to the kitchen