I look up from Facebook on my phone and at DoctorSister. “DoctorSister,” I say.
I have taken to asking DoctorSister parenting questions (“Why does everybody fall out about cloth nappies?” “Who is Gina Ford?” “What is baby-led weaning?” etc).
“Why do some women seem to become sad that their baby is growing up?”
DoctorSister ponders this for a second. “I don’t know,” she says eventually, shaking her head dismissively. “EarlyNiece is way more interesting now she doesn’t just feed and sleep.”
EarlyNiece duly picks up her ‘cuddle cube’ and throws it across the room. She then waves goodbye to it.
“Is broodiness wanting a newborn, maybe?” I said. “Not a child?”
“Maybe. I do miss her sleeping a lot.”
I nod, satisfied with this matter-of-fact answer, utterly missing the broody gene myself.
“Oh, big spider,” DoctorSister says suddenly.
“Er, what?” I say.
“Where?” I say, standing up immediately and discarding my cup of tea. “Where?”
“There,” DoctorSister says, pointing casually to the corner of the room.
“Um. Kill it? Please? Please?”
“Okay,” DoctorSister says, sighing and standing up. She mutters as she attempts to kill the spider. “This carpet pile is deep. It’s quite difficult.”
“Mmm. But try.”
“Done.” DoctorSister sits back on her heels.
“Can I see the body, please?” I say.
DoctorSister grabs a coaster and begins attempting to coax the dead spider onto it. EarlyNiece lets out a squawk.
“Sorry, EarlyNiece,” DoctorSister says. “I’m looking after Billygean right now.”