#tuesdayuseitinasentence: What are little girls made of?

Sparrow

Image: Pixabay

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’

Maisie sat on the back door step, bottom lip out, arms crossed over her chest like a dam holding back the flood.

‘Doesn’t look like nothing,’ said Dad. ‘Budge up.’ He squeezed in beside her, the stone cold on his backside.

Sparrows hopped in the bird table they’d made together last year – a pole with an old tea tray hammered to the top. Maisie had added the important touches such as splodges of lilac paint and glittery star stickers that had peeled off after the first heavy rain. He should have bought some varnish for it, lacquered over the stickers, but being practical never was his thing.

‘Ali doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.’

Maisie and Ali had been friends since nursery, though half of that time seemed to involve them fighting.

‘Well,’ said Dad, ‘I’m sure it’ll blow over.’

Maisie shook her head.

‘You’ve fallen out a lot of times over the years, love – ‘

‘I hate her.’

‘Maisie – ‘

‘She said I’m ugly. That I’m fat. That I’ve got slitty eyes.’

There’d been name calling over the years – of course there had – but school had handled every instance so well, the unpleasantness all dissolved so quickly. Now that mean little cow Ali … After all the birthday parties and sleepovers. And Maisie always the kindest girl … His daughter’s pain hit him in the chest, leaving him gasping for breath.

He looked at his big little girl, at the grown-up body with the ten-year-old child trapped inside. Life would never be easy for her and he wouldn’t always be around to help. But he was here today.

Gently, he took her hand. ‘You’re a beautiful, gorgeous girl – outside and in. And Ali …’

‘Is made of poo and twigs.’

He laughed so loud, the sparrows shot in the air and away over the garden fence.

‘Well, I was going to say she hasn’t got a heart half so big as yours. But maybe she’s made of twigs and poo too. I’ll ask her mum.’ He squeezed Maisie’s hand. ‘Fancy an ice cream?’

She looked at him from under long, blonde lashes. ‘Ice cream sundae.’

He smiled, smudged the tears from under her eyes. ‘Okay. Ice cream sundae. Last one with their shoes on is a rotten egg.’

 


Written for Stephanie at Word Adventure’s #tuesdayuseitinasentence. Take the word (this week it’s MATTER) and use it in a sentence or post). See here to join in and to read the other stories.

24 thoughts on “#tuesdayuseitinasentence: What are little girls made of?

  1. What a wonderful tribute to a parent’s love, and how it can stretch to cover such a range of realities.

    And I think Maisie is right, that the real problem is that Ali is made of poo and twigs.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The saddest thing about this is that the most dad can do is apply a sticking plaster, and he knows it; “‘Life would never be easy for her….., ” though maybe it would help if he put her on a diet. My daughter had to do that with Mark when he was about seven – he loved his food. It made him so miserable, and she often ended up imn tears, but she stuck firm, thank goodness.

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    1. Has he stayed slimmer since? Did it make things better for him in the long run? It’s tough, isn’t it? Some kids can be terribly mean too, can pick out weaknesses in a person where there didn’t seem to be any – the wrong name, the wrong clothing, saying the wrong thing. Who’d be a kid again? Thanks for reading, Jane 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. He’s never been overweight since.
        I wouldn’t mind going back to being – that was lovely. We lived in the middle of nowhere and mum and I were side by side all day. She did her washing and I washed the dolls clothes. She cooked dinner and I made something for my bestest brother. I sat on her lap for Listen with Mother… 🙂

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  3. Beautiful story, Lynn. 🙂 Maisie has a wonderful Dad. Hopefully Ali is just going through a tough patch herself and eventually she’ll be the friend that Maisie needs again. On the other hand she could just be made of twigs and poo…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha! Yep, at least half of girls are made of twigs and poo I reckon. Of course as we grow up we get better at disguising that fact … Thanks so much for the reblog – lovely of you

      Liked by 1 person

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