lying on the floor in a puddle of sad

Lying on the floor in a puddle of sad.

That’s what Boyo was doing at the airport this afternoon when we took Monsieur Lapin Blanc to catch his flight.

In that moment, as I watched my child slump to the ground and cry I was torn between feeling utter frustration at his display and a desire to join him on the floor as he lay there crying. He had a freedom you see, that children have and most adults don’t. He felt free to express his emotions, not sanitised for socially acceptable consumption, just as they come.

Boyo was tired, and Boyo was overwhelmed. Boyo also wanted me to take out a personal loan to buy him a drink from the overpriced airport cafe because he didn’t bring his water bottle with him. I didn’t deal with it very well. I was tired and I was overwhelmed. I didn’t want to take out a personal loan to buy a drink from the overpriced airport cafe. Most of all, I didn’t want to be going home without Monsieur. My petulant inner child didn’t want to say goodbye to Monsieur because that’s hard. We said goodbye to Monsieur though, and went to a shop on the way home to buy comfort eating supplies (chocolate) and wrapping paper. Saying goodbye felt weird. I feel a bit weak. Knowing that it’s only for a few weeks, it shouldn’t be so hard, right? Well, it was. It is.

I know that Monsieur has his family waiting for him at the other end. His mother, his father, and his sister and her family are excited to see him after an absence of far more than three weeks, and he is excited to see them. I am pleased for him, that he has such wonderful things planned for the time he will have with his family. I desperately hope he has a fabulous time and I look forward to meeting his family when I join him at the end of the month. I just wish that saying seeya later didn’t feel so hard.

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