At baby club today, the cry of a small boy to another almost equally small boy, on discovering that the latter was about to set off home with his mother…

How cute! we all said. And it was.

And, later on, reflecting on things too deeply – as is my wont at times – it did occur to me that this might also be construed a powerful symbol of something or other. After all, what is the thought process behind this: I love you, therefore you cannot go; I love you, therefore you must stay; I love you, therefore I control you. Three little words, useful for getting your own way.

Does a little boy come up with that himself, born of the natural, intelligent self-centredness of any child*? Or are we seeing the nasty creeping tendencies of that darnacious Patriarchy at work?

[*Especially Baby M who has been squalling at me all day because we cannot agree on whether these boobs belong to me or her. Or because we cannot agree on whether my need to finish my dinner is greater than her need to have her shoes put on. Or taken off again. And endless such difficult controversies of the kind designed to try anyone’s patience, let alone someone who didn’t sleep last night or the night before because we couldn’t agree on whether she had the right to keep me awake even though there was nothing wrong with her that a good shouting-at wouldn’t cure… You see why my blogging has been down, with these important matters to deal with.]

Urk. I don’t know.

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