The title of this post may seem trivial, but after weeks of having no inspiration at all looking at the blackened round little pizzas it was like something clicked in my mind.
My daughter is a creature of simple tastes, she likes tv, chocolate, fanta, chicken nuggets, apples and mini pizzas. A trend I am sure will not continue through her life as already the dreaded fashion monster is rearing his ugly head. But more on that later.
Most of the time I battle to try and get her to eat something other than the junky food she likes but tonight I was feeling lazy, so I went to the freezer and pulled out (shock horror) a ham and pineapple mini pizza. I put it in the oven with absolutely none of the finesse of a french chef and promptly forgot about it. That is until a little voice drifted to me "I can smell my pizza cooking" (insert expletive here!)
A mad dash to the kitchen was actually quiet pointless because the pizza was charcoal and for a brief second i wondered if she would eat it. LOL
So now I have more pizza cooking and even though maybe this was a sign to get off my lazy butt and cook her something decent, I am choosing to take it as a sign that it is time to get back to my writing. See how that works out to my benefit? You like what I did there?
There are many things I love writing about. I love writing about the way the rain looks pouring down outside my bedroom window in the afternoon, or how pretty the stars are at night when you are in the middle of nowhere. I like replying to text messages and making my friends laugh. I love writing to my boyfriend and telling him about my day.
But I love writing about my girl most of all. Every now and then I am reminded of how she has this unique personality. A blending of her dad, her step-mum and me. But there is something else there. Something that is purely Lily. Like when she looks me dead in the eye and tells me that you CAN wear blue socks with pink shoes. ( There is that fashion thing I was telling you about) Or when she thinks no-one is watching and she twirls on the spot because she is happy. Some may say it's innocence, but I hope it's not. I hope that one day when she is my age I will catch her twirling on the spot because she is happy and will remember writing this.
Meanwhile the second lot of pizza is cooked, served and being munched on with a big tomato grin plastered on a 4 year old's face. And maybe I should feel bad that my daughter isn't eating a nutritious dinner tonight. Instead I hope I catch her twirling.
Goodnight Bright Stars
xxx
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