This girl
will burn…
Her conception was my fault
The doctor arrived 15 minutes before her
She was born without a cry
I cut the umbilical chord
The blanket burnt in the oven
I told strangers at the bus stop
She taught me responsibility before I grew up
This little girl saved
stray puppies, injured pigeons, sick rabbits
She founded the Girls Club street gang
Laughing she ran through the glass door
After they phoned, I was so freaked
I drove fast to the wrong hospital
When I arrived at the right one
The doctor was stitching her wrists with a whale needle
She was still laughing, shaking
She only listens when she’s trapped in the car
on the way to the shops
“Emma, there’s two bad genes
you inherited:
money is like water
and I know how to have a good time, too well”
She smiles “Hey, they both go well together”
She has her own dialect “Oy dad!”
meaning “Can I please have 10 bucks
to buy some spin for the mull mill?”
She brought home a kitten called “Gitane”
who jumps on the keyboard when I’m typing
She ripped up the carpet at midnight
Not the kitten, the girl
She hangs her clothes on the floor
She lost her first mobile phone
She gave her second one
to her dumb-ass junkie boyfriend.
She lost her door key again
She came home at 2am
She didn’t need to knock
I heard her cough outside
“Have another cigarette,
damn, I’ll have one myself”
This girl is a waif
a baby gangsta
This girl will burn the crust off the earth.
“Being at home can be fun, insulating, relaxed, boring or isolating ... depending on how the day is going.”*
School holidays are almost over in my part of the world – six long weeks of noise and squabbling balanced by hot, lazy days at the beach or the pool with lots of daring exploits and laughter. Many of our days were spent at home, basking in simple pleasures like baking, playing games or outdoor pursuits – trying to relax the everyday routines of school-morning bustle and ‘having to be somewhere on time’. However pleasant, I must admit to being relieved that life gets back to normal next week, and I can reclaim some of my own time for writing again!
* From Being Mummy by Anne‑marie Taplin published April 2007