- I can be incredibly organised – all the lunches made the night before, the school bags and the kindergarten bags and the work bags assembled, the garden watered and the clothes washed – and everything will be going swimmingly the next morning until Lauca discovers one of her beloved guinea pigs, Yuko has died suddenly during the night.
- Lauca is seven years old. She loves those guinea pigs of hers. Loves them. So naturally, she will be distraught. I love her guinea pigs, too, and seeing her so distraught will make me cry.
- The only person who will not be crying is the three year old brother, Cormac. It will seem that three year olds are not nature’s grievers. But they love to hypothesize in gruesome detail (“First Yuko’s ears die and then her scratchy claws die”), and with endless repetition (“Who died Yuko? Why did Yuko die? But, why did Yuko die? Who died Yuko?”). I will eventually manage to distract Cormac, but as soon as I have Lauca calm, he will start right back up with his personal quest t0 find out who killed Yuko. (Answer: no-one and STFU).
- Until bedtime that night… when the three-year old finally understands that death means Never Coming Back and then he will sob in my arms until he collapses asleep in my bed with his sad, big sister beside us.
Farewell little pig.