Cutie Duck

“Did you know that I am a big sister?” three-and-a-half-year-old Sloane is quick to offer to anyone she comes into contact with.

If asked her sister’s name, she quickly replies:  “I call her Cutie Duck”.

Small for her age, Sloane has wispy, white blonde hair, big brown eyes, and talks with a high-pitched, squeaky voice.  Most of the words she uses are bigger than her.  When asked if she liked the new snowsuit that Grumpa bought her, she replied:  “Yes, it’s very colourful!”

“Cutie Duck is so beautiful!” she told us one day at dinner.  “I just love her!”

She went on to tell us that it is her job to teach the baby things, like how to walk and talk and play.

“But not for a long time,” I suggested.  “The baby will need to a lot of looking after first.”

“I know, I have to protect her.  I can carry her, you know.  I have big strong arms.”

Yesterday, while talking to Sloane and her mother, I overheard my daughter say:  “Where did this mess come from?”

Without skipping a beat, Sloane responded:  “Cutie Duck did it!”

“She did, did she?”

I couldn’t contain my laughter.  Cutie Duck isn’t even expected to arrive until the middle of May – three months away!


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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