One moment he is utterly depressed about a grievance in his luxury accommodated life. Like when we are out of chocolate spread. Or a hole wrecks his grijze t-shirt. Maybe his favorite sitcom runs low on episodes. Anything. The next moment he is all smiles again, and you would never suspect the tears that momentarily preceded. I wonder how he does it: shedding off the sorrows of a six year old and to instantly produce an upbeat demeanor. Fortunately enough, Kasper is willing to share his secret: “You see, I am really a quick forgetter”.
Friday evening, my daughter (10) has something to dicsuss. “Dad, when I start dating”, the book falls in my lap and I caugh my way through a gulp of Kingfisher. “Don’t worry”, she confirms as she watches me recompose, “I am not into that yet”. For some reason I am not reassured at all, as she continues: “I am going to say to the boys …” (now she has my full and undevided attention) “… I ain’t nobody’s plan B. Either you choose me or you lose me”. Here eyes stare at me, over a broad smile. You go, girl!