Clever Girl

The baby’s mother sat at the table drinking her large skinny latte; she looked exhausted 

Her daughter lay back in her pushchair face etched in concentration ignoring the cloth dolly beside her. Her mother ate the pain au chocolate in small bites, staring off into space

‘Oh what a beautiful baby, how old is she?’’

An elderly woman looked into the pushchair with adoring eyes and gave the child’s chubby leg a squeeze

‘She’s eighteen months and I really wouldn’t do that’

A pained expression showed on the mother’s face

‘Who’s a clever girl then? Yes you are aren’t you’

The old woman carried on with the squeezing and added a couple of tickles under the chin

The child sat up and knocked the woman’s hand away

‘Of course I’m a clever girl. I’ve read the entire works of Shakespeare, have made sense of string theory and was just working on a formula for cold fusion before your inane comments and unwelcome touching interrupted my train of thought’

She laid back down with a loud sigh

‘Now kindly desist and go and bother some other poor child who I’m sure would be overjoyed to be man handled and patronised by your ridiculous attempts at conversation’

The old woman stood open mouthed beside the pushchair

The mother smiled an embarrassed smile, gulped down her latte and wheeled her daughter out of the now silent cafe

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