slip-sliding away…..

Before she goes to bed at night,
my little companion
asks me what date it is,
and then duly fills in her entry for the day:
scribbling her activities
on a calendar
stuck to the wall;
held only with Prestik.
And no matter how many times it falls,
she simply sticks it up again.

It tells of what she’s done,
but also what her plans are.
A childhood diary on paper,
well before the
nagging digital version
enters her life,
with insidious notifications and alarms
that I pray will not
enslave her future,
grown-up life.

Her entries reflect
the utter simplicity of childhood:
~ “It is Eid to day”
~ “We are going to ma”
~ “Swimming to day”
~ “Hike to day”
~ “My birthday”
~ “We mit go to moms school”
~ “We are gowing to view a house”
~ “We are going to the shop to day”
~ “Mas birth day”
~ “We are having a market day at school to day”
~ “it is the excershen”

And when she’s done writing,
she moves on to her nocturnal routine.

Everything lined up on the desk:
the Paddington tin,
kokis and highlighters,
the tube of purple slime
(which she insists is actually putty),
the wooden box and canvas fox,
plus the silo city of toilet roll inners
(which are still waiting for a purpose).

Further afield,
each book on her shelf
is exactly where it belongs;
while her makeshift bow stands upright
(put back up even though it falls every day),
while its straight branch arrows lie
in a neat bundle on the floor beside.

Next, she loosens the shreds of my childhood sheet
(which she now calls her blankie),
hanging them over her head,
like an unsophisticated ghost,
then scrunching them up
and placing them on her bed,
next to her pillow,
under which lies
a book she sneakily reads
once the lights are off
and I’m out of the room.

Before climbing into bed,
she puts her slippers down,
set at the angle she likes,
and confirms that everything is as it should be,
for, if anything is out of place,
she’ll get up to make it right.

In she goes,
blanket neatly put on the floor
(because she gets hot),
and duvet pulled to her liking,
with one foot sticking out;
tissues on the headboard above her,
and water in a covered glass on her desk.

With night-time prayers done,
the final kisses are dispensed
for both her and her favourite bear,
along with our indispensable routine:
Eskimo / Inuit,
cupcake / sprinkles,
Jelly / Tot / Jelly Tot.

And though she’ll keep talking,
trying to delay her sleep even more
(because sleep is “so boring”),
I put her nightly Quran on
then depart,
my duties done for the night.

And when I check in on her
minutes later,
she’s drifted away
into a peaceful, childhood sleep,
and I smile
at this tiny human
entrusted to me,
and my heart is full ❤️.