Miss M. is a schoolgirl. Since yesterday. Soon, the "Wonders of Writing" and the "Mystery of Multiplication" will be unravelled. She'll be able to catch all the headlines from the tabloids sold on the streets (Great). Read the television programme (Oh Boy), and, at night, hide herself under her duvet wih a book and a flashlight (We will have to carry her to school in her pyjamas next morning).
Before we know, she'll know more than we know (and that'll be pretty soon).
Of course, to enable all this we needed a Desk. I was relieved I could therefore finally throw out this:
"Sally Spruce" held all the diapers, bibs, baby bottom creams and cozy blankets for the last six years. I bought her in a rush, when I was nine months pregnant, and shopping for furniture had become an ordeal. Now we had to tell Sally it was over.
Knowing she was not made for eternity, she sighed briefly, lost a knot, and was ready to take her fate with countenance. But it all came differently, as the lady of the house (me) had been hoarding fabric over the last couple of years. And that had to be kept neatly. So out came the paint, glue, paper and a jigsaw.
When the dust settled, I showed her in the mirror how she looked.
She almost lost all her knots, but forgave me for wanting to throw her out in the first place.
The problem is now, that Miss M. claims this is actually her set of drawers, and it has no business in my office, and home work can be made at the kitchen table perfectly well.
I'll think about it.
No promises though...