Dark and Light

Dark:

I am writing a section on Ian McEwan, and the influence of his military upbringing on his fiction.  McEwan = lots of reading about pedophilia, about which critic Peter Childs has this to say: "the abuse of children becomes the last recourse for put-upon adults who, through the torturing of others, attempt to punish something in themselves."  I recognise a dilute version of that observation in myself: low self-esteem days make me far more short-tempered with my children, as if I feel put-upon by my middle-aged invisibility and pimples (a remarkably unfair combo) and so become overly brittle about whether the kids have put their shoes away correctly.  Shame.

Light:

Dinner last night, Clara holding a slice of bread to her ear:
"Oh, hi Henry!  Mummy it's Henry on the phone.  How are you Henry?  Yes, I like to play on the castle as well.  Poopy is pizza!  Ok.  Byeeeee."

Overlapping,  Winton with banana held to his ear:
"Wello?" [Pause]
Passing banana to me:
"It's Daddy."