She’s gone! Little Seymour Number One has had enough of shed life, sleeping next to small children and living in the dark. She’s left home, and gone to live in France.
Apparently, I have heard it on the grapevine that she doesn’t want to come home!
I guess I should have seen this coming when she hit her brother over the head with his dinosaur guitar last month. Tensions were running high.
So, instead of worrying she’d be homesick and that I’d have to do a mercy dash to collect her, in tears, from a far-flung corner of the continent, I am now worried she won’t come back.
I suppose a less dramatic result of all this might just be that she returns home more mature, confident and capable than she was before. Which will be nice. But I do wonder how she’ll cope, having to once again share a shelf, one temperamental toilet and a messy shed with all of us again. Facetime communication over the week has shown her sitting in a nice, orderly home, with actual proper heating and space where other people are not. None of these I can offer her at present.
I just hope love is enough…
:-0
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