The toddler throws himself onto the ground in front of a bed of bright orange tulips.
‘Nooooo!! Noooooo!!’ his tinny voice cuts through the air, straight into the part of my brain that just does not want to go to toddler town, today. Because it’s the kind of day where everything flashes beneath the splendor of the sun, and there’s a sea of tulips that look like they’ve been expertly painted into their beds, right there. But the toddler doesn’t care—the toddler is feeling emotional. The toddler has other plans.
Now I’m pawing at the toddler’s arms and I’m trying to pull him up off the dusty red ground and, I’ll be honest, things are looking grim. It’s me against a nineteen month old with a chip on his shoulder. I shake my head and look around for Daddy, who’s disappeared among the tulips and become just another head in the crowd. It’s my job to head into the mess of tulips to take some happy snaps, but since the boy has other plans, so far I’ve snapped a total of one blurry shot.
I give up on the photo idea and suddenly my little angel and I are actually enjoying this. Together. Turns out, the toddler is a fan of tulips. And who could blame him. I mean, just look.
It’s been a long day. The toddler’s pooped and Mister C and I drag our weary legs homeward.
I’ve loved the tulips. But then this happens: the most beautiful moment of all.
Because when the Sun shines so brightly, I just know it’s my Nan shining down from her place in heaven. And I’ve just realised that today, she’s been right there tip toeing through the tulips with me.
No moment could be greater.