A FAMILY SCENE

They are out of bed – again!’ And with those words
Our supper interrupted, I charge out of the kitchen
Bristling with irritation, my wife’s plea not to shout
Ringing in my ears, and run up the stairs
Ready to put them crying into different rooms
And shut their doors against the inevitable noise.
They hear me coming – and as I reach their room
There’s a sudden scampering, then a giggling,
And as my wrathful head goes round the door
I see two faces with covers up to their noses,
Beneath which they are shaking with laughter.
I am not softened. This happens too often.
On the point of venting my anger, one of them
Suddenly shouts, ‘O daddy, daddy,
Hug me, daddy.’ I am stopped, and think,
And say nothing, and bend over her bed
Put my arms around her, and as she understands
That the anger has gone out of me, her arms
Around my neck, she squeezes me eagerly,
And I squeeze back – ‘One, two, three,’ I count.
‘That’s three hugs – I want three,’ shouts the other
And I go over to her. ‘One, two, three –
And one for luck.’ ‘I want one more.’
After several more, and only one stern word
I go back down to my wife, who looks at me
Relieved to have heard no shouting, no crying.
She asks me what happened, and we reflect upon
How complete and unreserved a child’s loving is.
We are all at peace, and our supper goes on
Only slightly interrupted. But I think to myself
This will change, I know. But I don’t know how.