Pickle and the Post

*Cross posted from my FB page here*

I am cleaning up my room after about a year and find an old envelope. I'm about to throw it away when Pickle, my 5 year old wanders in aimlessly.

'You want this?'

'What it is?' He asks curiously. Then, as he realizes what the object is, his face changes. His eyes almost well up in tears of gratitude as he says 'THANK you Mummy.'

He then grabs the envelope from me and runs out screaming 'Papad! I got a POST!'

Soon his twin is in the room demanding his own 'Post' which luckily, I manage to source. They start to make their own special letters.

Pickle knows exactly what he wants to make. He comes up to me and confides.

'Mama, I'm making a letter for you. It will say

I love you forever I like you for always As Long as I'm living My Mommy You'll Be.'

I'm very touched by his plagiarism. I say 'That's great, beta.'

'Can you give me a Paper?'

'Okay.' I hand him a sheet of paper.

'How do you write I love you forever?'

I can see where this is going. 'Why don't you find that book, baby, and you can copy the words from there?'

'No.' He is firm on this point. 'This is not a copy.'

'Okay. Fine.' I sigh. 'Write 'I' and then 'L-O-V-E'

Five minutes later, I'm encouraging the little boy 'Well, you wrote the spelling of Ever very nicely? ...Just that you got both the E's and the R backwards...but that's okay, that's okay...' ( Papad cackles meanly in the background as he writes his own much shorter letter to his friend Uday)

After about ten minutes and two sheets of paper and much erasing, Pickle and I have only done about half of the poem and now I'm the one who's welling up in tears.

I suggest tentatively. 'Pickle? Why don't you guys go and watch a little TV now, and you can do this later...'

Almost before I've finished, the twins are out the door, unable to believe their good luck, Pickle having immediately and unceremoniously dropped his love letter to me, like a hot potato. It flutters to the floor and lies there sadly.

I lean back onto my pillow and sigh happily. Pickle pokes his head into my room and says 'Sorry I left your door open Ma' and smiles sweetly and then slams it shut.

I close my eyes, once again, so incredibly thankful for that wonderful invention called television.