I've not had the best week of my life over the past week. Too detailed and too personal to go into here, but needless to say it involved an urgent dash halfway across the world to London and visiting hospitals. Always the worst fear for any expat who is miles away from their family.
This was also the first time that I had been away from Eve for more than a few days. And the first time on a weekend. I cried when I left home to go to the airport, forcing the Boy to promise to skype me in London before Eve went to bed every night. In the end it was fine. Eve got away with murder while I was away. Exhibit A - a weekend phone call home.
Me "Hello, where are you?"
Boy "In a shop"
Me "I can hear Eve in the background talking about Upsy Daisy, shouldn't she be having a nap right now?"
Boy "I asked her about a nap and she said that she didn't want one"
Hmm, so that's OK then! Eve also wants to ride my motorbike and drive the car but I hope to goodness he didn't let her do those while I was away. In all seriousness, the Boy made a great single Dad and both seemed to have lots of fun without me. That said, I hoped that when I got home Eve would be pleased to see me back.
I purposely walked into the flat, fresh off my flight back to HK, gifts in hand. Whereupon Eve took one look at me, nearly burst into tears and cried "But Mummy, I was about to go to the playground!". After five minutes of gentle reassuring that we would still go and I would come too, and the presentation of the Harrods westie dog in his own bag (thereby combining two of Eve's favourite things in one gift - a fluffy dog and a handbag), I got a huge cuddle and off we went to play on the slide.
The sarcastic cynic. Or something like that
4 weeks ago