Mrs Weaver sinks into her armchair. There is an eery silence. The coloured balloons begin to deflat. She is glad that she didn't have to cook but looking around the room she realises she will have to tidy up the mess. Tea cups, paper plates, plastic cutlery, rolled up napkins, and party streamers are cluttering up her living room. Maybe she could sort it out in the morning. She had checked on Alice Grace, who was sleeping peacefully; the excitement had worn her out. She should really get to work on making the place look pretty again, as Mr Weaver says, but her body doesn't move. Her hand reaches out for the TV remote instead.
However, it touches something bigger that has been mislaid on the coffee table. Mrs Weaver carefully picks up the object. The words 'Alice Grace's memories as a baby' stand out on pieces of card like each letter is on a child's building block. Now she remembers Sue Cooper asking to see it. Always a nosey one. "It's a shame her first word wasn't mummy," Sue remarked as her fingers turned over to another page. She had agreed in hast but truth be known she was glad it was mamma. She was more glad that it wasn't dadda. Instead it had been "b-bye". At the time she had chuckled because Alice Grace gave a little bye hand movement too and she looked so cute. Not that she was saying bye to any one at the time.
Mrs Weaver gently opens the book and reads over the words, trying to treasure the memories that each picture and words bring. It doesn't take her long. It is only then that she realises that there are only 13 pages filled. Surely mothers were meant to record every moment of their child's life. Her eyes begin to sting. She tightly shuts them. The reading must have made them sore. After all she is fifity five today. The book gets closed and is quickly hidden in the drawer again. A tear trickles down Mrs Weaver's face as she starts gathering the rubbish together.
However, it touches something bigger that has been mislaid on the coffee table. Mrs Weaver carefully picks up the object. The words 'Alice Grace's memories as a baby' stand out on pieces of card like each letter is on a child's building block. Now she remembers Sue Cooper asking to see it. Always a nosey one. "It's a shame her first word wasn't mummy," Sue remarked as her fingers turned over to another page. She had agreed in hast but truth be known she was glad it was mamma. She was more glad that it wasn't dadda. Instead it had been "b-bye". At the time she had chuckled because Alice Grace gave a little bye hand movement too and she looked so cute. Not that she was saying bye to any one at the time.
Mrs Weaver gently opens the book and reads over the words, trying to treasure the memories that each picture and words bring. It doesn't take her long. It is only then that she realises that there are only 13 pages filled. Surely mothers were meant to record every moment of their child's life. Her eyes begin to sting. She tightly shuts them. The reading must have made them sore. After all she is fifity five today. The book gets closed and is quickly hidden in the drawer again. A tear trickles down Mrs Weaver's face as she starts gathering the rubbish together.
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