Mini Shopaholic

‘We can mop them with the cupboardful of mops we’ve already got!’ Dad erupts. ‘If I see one more useless cleaning gadget in this house …’

Oookay. I think I might just quietly edge away before I get drawn into this and they each start saying, ‘Becky agrees with me, don’t you, Becky?’

Anyway, I’m dying to see how Kyla and Minnie are getting on.

They’ve been together for two solid hours. Kyla’s bound to have had a positive effect on Minnie already. Maybe she’s started her on Mandarin or French. Or embroidery!

I tiptoe up to the kitchen door, hoping to hear the sound of Minnie singing a madrigal or saying ‘Un, deux, trois’ in a perfect accent, or maybe doing a bit of quick Pythagoras. But instead, all I can hear is Kyla saying, ‘Minnie, come on. Come on, now!’

She sounds a bit weary, which is weird. I had her down as one of those endless-energy, broccoli-juice type people.

‘Hi!’ I call out and push the door open. ‘I’m back!’

Blimey. What’s up? Kyla’s completely lost her sparkle. Her hair is dishevelled, her cheeks are flushed and there’s a smear of mashed potato on her shirt.

Minnie, on the other hand, is sitting in her high chair with a plate of food in front of her, looking like she’s having a whale of a time.

‘So!’ I say brightly. ‘Did you have a good morning?’

‘Great!’ Kyla smiles – but it’s one of those automatic smiles that doesn’t reach her eyes. In fact, if truth be told, her eyes are saying, ‘Get me out of here, now.’

I think I’ll just ignore them. I’ll pretend I don’t understand Eye. Or Clenched Hands Round the Chairback.

‘So, have you started on any languages yet?’ I say encouragingly.

‘Not yet.’ Kyla flashes her teeth again. ‘In fact, I’d like to have a little chat if that’s OK?’

I’m tempted to say, ‘No, get going on the Mandarin,’ close the door and run. But that wouldn’t be the act of a responsible mother, would it?

‘Of course!’ I turn with a winning smile. ‘What’s up?’

‘Mrs Brandon.’ Kyla lowers her voice as she comes towards me. ‘Minnie’s a sweet, charming, intelligent child. But we had a few … issues today.’

‘Issues?’ I repeat innocently, after only the tiniest of pauses. ‘What kind of issues?’

‘There were moments when Minnie was a little stubborn. Is that normal for her?’

I rub my nose, playing for time. If I admit that Minnie’s the stubbornest person I’ve ever come across then that just lets Kyla off the hook. She’s supposed to cure Minnie’s stubbornness. In fact, why hasn’t she done it already?

And anyway, everyone knows you shouldn’t label children, it gives them a complex.

‘Stubborn?’ I wrinkle my brow as though baffled. ‘No, that doesn’t sound like Minnie to me. She’s never stubborn with me,’ I add for good measure. ‘She’s always a little angel, aren’t you, darling?’ I beam at Minnie.

‘I see.’ Kyla’s cheeks are flushed and she looks a bit beleaguered. ‘Well, I guess it’s early days for us, isn’t it, Minnie? The other thing …’ She lowers her voice. ‘She won’t eat any carrots for me. I’m sure she’s just playing up. You said she eats carrots, right?’

‘Absolutely,’ I say after another tiny pause. ‘Always. Come on, Minnie, eat your carrots!’

I head over to the high chair and look at Minnie’s food. Most of the chicken and potatoes have gone, but there’s a stack of beautifully cooked carrots, which Minnie’s eyeing as though they’re the Black Death.

‘I don’t understand where I’m going wrong.’ Kyla sounds quite hassled. ‘I never had this kind of problem with Eloise …’

‘Could you possibly get down a mug for me, Kyla?’ I say casually. As Kyla reaches up to the cupboard I whip a carrot off the plate, stuff it in my mouth and swallow it in one gulp.

‘She just ate one,’ I say to Kyla, trying not to sound too smug.

‘She ate one?’ Kyla whips round. ‘But … but I’ve been trying for fifteen minutes!’

‘You’ll get the knack,’ I say kindly. ‘Um, could you possibly get a jug down as well?’ As she turns away I stuff another carrot in my mouth. To give credit to Kyla, they are pretty yummy.

‘Did she just eat another one?’ I can see Kyla avidly counting the carrots on the plate. It’s a good job I’m a fast chewer. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">