Iris

Aidan got very upset today when it was time to leave Playcentre. He was having a wonderful time playing in the sandpit with Iris.

I have known Iris almost her whole life. We must have met soon after her birth when she would have been brought to Playcentre.

Iris knows me well, and trusts me. I know this because today she came up to me and said:

"Mary, could you please take away this piece of fluff from my tongue?"

Upon inspection I could see small wisps of white threads teasing her tongue in an almost invisible fashion. Iris extended her tongue and I delicately plucked them from her wide open mouth. Such physical intimacy is only generally permitted with one who is known, and trusted - whatever your age.

It reminded me of when we went to the zoo, and I felt a little hand fold into mine as we walked past monkey island. A little hand that though not related to me, was nevertheless familiar and welcome.

Last term Iris brought me a dead worm she had found.

By school pick-up time, Aidan had convinced himself that we were going to Iris's house afterwards. He was disappointed to come home instead. Once back, he said:

"I really like Iris".

Yeah. Me too.