Lighter ● by Jess

Between Auschwitz and weddings.... life has felt pretty epic (for better or worse) lately. But, sometimes it's the little quirky moments that really make life worth living.

This mailbox totes knows my man: first-class and abroad all the way.

I love four and five year olds. It is my absolute favourite age. They understand enough about the world to carry on a conversation, but aren't yet inhibited by the structure of reality or social norms.

One five year old that I babysit (I'll call her Tilly) has been obsessed with babies. As an only child, this is understandable. But Tilly's fascination with pregnancy is unusual and it is her favourite topic of conversation.

One day, Tilly asked me if I had ever had a baby in my tummy. I explained that I did once, for a very short time, but that that baby wasn't ready to come down yet, so they went back up to heaven for a little while.

“They do that?” she said in wonder.

“Sometimes,” I said. “Some babies just take a little longer until they are ready.”

“Have you tried to have a baby again?”

“Yes, but sometimes you just have to be patient.”

“Well... have you given your husband the special kiss?”

“Excuse me?”

“The special kiss,” she said, as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “The special kiss is what mummies and daddies do to make babies.”

Whoa nelly.

“Well,” I said, not entirely sure how to proceed, “Don't you worry Tilly, I've given my husband plenty of special kisses.”

Tilly sighed, “Well, then I think the only thing you can is go and find an old oak tree.”

“An old oak tree?”

“Yes,” she said solemnly. “They are very wise. They could tell you when your baby will come.”

So, if anyone can point me to one of these trees, I'd be super grateful.

That being stated, before I go looking for said trees, I learned the other day that might need to get my eyes checked.

We are lucky to live in a pretty cosmopolitan part of central London and get to experience all kinds of different cultural experiences. However, sometimes that can throw you for a loop and challenge your paradigms.

The other day, I walked out our apartment door. There is only one other flat on our end of the hall, so there are rarely people around.

From the corner of my eye I saw two cloaked, grim-reaper figures looming in the corner. It scared me so bad I actually screamed (well, more of a hoarse squeak). I turned to look and saw two tall women in burkas. They burst out giggling and I turned and ran down the hall, thoroughly mortified.

Lesson learned: Look before you scream.