I said in my last Siblings post that my girls are best friends and worst enemies and quite often it seems to be both at the same time. Either they’re lying on the floor locked in a loving embrace, or their lying on the floor locked in a fierce battle over control of the pink etch a sketch, it’s sometimes hard to tell. My dearest wish is that they will grow up to be close, to have each other’s backs through life’s storms and to have the sort of easygoing relationship that only comes from growing up together. But I know I can’t force it, all I can do is sit back and watch and wait and hope and let them find their own path together.
Sometimes I wonder whether they’ll get there when an afternoon is full of “I don’t like you!”, “Go away from me”, or in Elma’s case (to Kitty) “Stay away, you’ll be safe from me” (too much Frozen, oops), but they’re only ever temporary wobbles, and possibly just an indicator of how much they do love each other, and are aware of that love, that they can scrap and still be certain of sisterly affection.
And then there are the times when it becomes abundantly clear.
We were driving through town this week; we’d dropped Kitty off at nursery, then gone to the butchers and the supermarket and we were wiggling across to pick up the main road on the far side on a mission for plastic tubs from IKEA and in all of our wiggles we got quite close to the nursery again, just turning left where we would go right. And as I turned a little voice from the back seat piped up:
“Mama! We left Litty at nursery!”
She talks about taking Kit to nursery all the time (usually followed with “and then gym class”) but this is the first time she’s said “left”.
“It’s all right, lovely girl, we’re going to get your sister later” I said
“I want Litty!” came the reply,
“I love Litty.”
“I just really want Litty.”
And the bottom lip trembled.
I’m afraid to say I went with the classic parenting technique of passing her a biscuit and hoping for the best because I have picked Kitty up early from nursery and the only occasion on which it will not produce epic levels of unhappiness at being deprived of the last few minutes of the day with her friends is if I arrive with a grandparent in tow, and I’m not sure I will ever be ready to coral two walking pre-schoolers around the maze that is IKEA.
We all had a lovely afternoon and when we went in to pick Kitty up at the appropriate time she was sat on the floor singing with her friends. Elma sped on in ahead of me while I tried to keep a grip on a wriggling Pip and Kitty leapt up, ran straight towards us and swooped Elma up in a big hug that somehow ended up with both of them sat on the floor.
Two happy little sisters, reunited again; until the next time.