What having a 5 year old is like: A short story

This morning we take the tags off my daughter’s new winter jacket for her walk to the bus stop. Shortly thereafter, I look for her in the bathroom to make sure she’s brushing her teeth. She isn’t.

Me: “Emma? Emma!”

My husband: “Well, she’s not outside. She’s probably in her room.”

I walk back to her room but I don’t see her.

Me: “Emma?”

Up pops a coat-wearing Gollum, stuffing her pockets with treasure. She is facing her bookshelf but stops to look over her shoulder at me.

Me: “Are you filling your pockets?”

Gollum: “Yes,” she says with a book light half hanging out of the pocket on her sleeve.

Me: “You’re not bringing that.”

Gollum: “Yes I am.”

Me: “You’re not. You need to empty those pockets or I’ll have to take those things away.”

Gollum: “No!”

Me: “1… 2…”

I take a step forward and her face changes from defiance to fear.

Smeagol: “I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

I watch as the book light is returned.

A pack of Chap-stick.

A squish toy.

A battery operated tea light.

A bracelet.

A small rubber duck.

Me:

Smeagol: “They’re like kangaroo pockets.”

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