Bikini

Have I mentioned previously that my daughter is five? Yes, five years old.. Only in reception class at school , still learning to tie her own shoelaces? Well to hear the running debate that has been going on the past week you would be forgiven for thinking she had just turned 15!
This dramatic transformation all started when she suddenly discovered (through being at a friends house) that there was such thing as bikini‘s being on sale to the under 6‘s. Oh how I have tried to hide this fact from her, not as I am totally anti them, but knowing that as soon as the truth was discovered ( and that swimming costume is due for replacement )that there would be fireworks in our house on request for a bikini - mainly being omitted by The Man.
Here’s the picture I came home to, I had been busying myself with very important nail infilling duties in croydon so had relied on The Man to take charge and ensure childcare duties were dealt with..
Darling Daughter has been to swimming and tea with a friend from school, so man has had extra few hours to untidy house and not do the washing… by the time I am walking in, the place looks like Primark on a Saturday and I can feel that the tension is not right here even if they are fearing my reaction to the mess… I turn to my daughter and ask about her day only to get puppy dog eyes and a look of injustice … certain that everyone is taking the mess too seriously, considering that all I had done is raise my eyebrows - I proceed to tell all that It’s okay - today I will not lose the plot about a bit of mess.. Quite big of me I believe.
When this broadcast has little effect I really begin to worry .. What is going on , if it is not the fear of me turning into the she devil herself, then what can be worse.. I look to The man for an explanation but I get the Nod - meaning that what he has to tell me is not for the consumption of children… okay.
I run though the golden bedtime hour of feeding bathing and dressing children for bed with a real worry in the pit of my stomach … I know that daughter Darling is going through a bit of a Veruca Salt stage but I didn’t think she would be capable of bringing The Man to this type of silent anger… Finally children are all cosy in bed and The Man sits down handing me a glass of wine… I start feeling really hot with the anticipation of what he is about to warble when amongst all my fretting I realise that he has already started speaking… ‘Wants a Bikini’ I hear … then I realise that all my fretting has been for nothing … ‘a bikini’ I ask, laughing.
Confirmed. Relief sweeps over me that this clearly has not been any of the disaster scenario’s that I had been dreaming up…like her attempting to leave home etc.
Only, clearly from the expression on The Mans face I could tell that he did not see this as any laughing matter… I start to see where this has all gone so wrong.
Here we have the classic.. Little girl wants to dress up as big lady and The Man is afraid of losing his innocent little girl. It is time for me to get him to wake up and smell the impulse, here comes the years of compromise! After an hour of battling out the pressures society puts on your women I finally manage to persuade The Man that a tankini is more than suitable.
The Man then goes to take a peek at the daughter to see if she is asleep.. Her eyes still wide open he goes in to give her a kiss on the head and tuck her in…
I watch through the door as I see his serious face explaining our decision, a small smile slowly begins to grow across her face.. Then onto his…
Outside I look down onto my new set of nails with a smile and think to myself, alls well that ends well, and of course I’m glad they made it up too!