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  • She's furious with me because I won't let her go to school in sandals in the snow. She pulls herself up to her full five year old height, scowls like a teenager and delivers her best shot: "You're not my proper mummy, anyway."

    We stare at each other. I thought she hadn't taken in the story I tell her in the bath about the pink suitcase. I can hear my heartbeats thumping in my head. I am wondering if i regret sharing so much so soon. It would have been nice to have been able to pretend to be proper for a little while. But it is her story and she has a right to it. "No, but I properly love you and I'm going to make sure I care for you properly - so put the boots on."
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