Hannah and I were on out way to the local Four Square (very small supermarket usually in very small towns) to pick up some last minute things for dinner and on the way she’d spotted the first star of the night and had started the obligatory wish chant:
Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.
We rounded the corner and pulled in to the car park as she finished making her wish with her eyes squeezed shut. Then she informed me, as we both hopped out of the car, that she’d made her wish for me. A welcome display of affection toward me after a day of otherwise horrific behaviour so I smiled, knowing that she knew the rules about wishes* and I hazarded a guess that it was something along the lines of wishing I was a nice mummy or similar. But it seems she was either not wanting her wish for me to come true, or she wanted to embarrass the hell out of me, or both, because as we walked through the doors and encountered the check out staff and several locals she turned to me and said in a volume only a 5 year old can project when she is about to say something mortifying: “You’re poor aye Mum?” At which point EVERYONE in the Four Square turned around and stared at me. Like, actually. Not even exaggerating.
Queue nervous laughter from me. The child continues, “So I wished you were rich!” Which would have been sweet if I didn’t believe that capitalism and the accumulation of wealth is a big pile of shit and also didn’t presently want to be swallowed into a giant hole.
The checkout woman that I see almost every day made a quiet joke and the rest of the people including half the parents from Hannah’s school looked away and pretended they hadn’t heard the disclosure of my dismal financial status. I did my shopping extra fast.
So thanks Hannah. You’re ace, kid.
*You never tell anyone your wish or it won’t come true! Surely you know that?