She picked up a worm and studied it as it dangled in front of her face. “I like surprise danger.”
“Yes. I’ve noticed.”
She grinned, tossed the worm aside, then scooped dirt into an empty flowerpot. “I’m making a mud potion.”
“Excellent. What does it do?”
“It makes people understand worms.”
“A worthy goal.”
She added leaves, a twig, three pebbles, and a worm, which she removed after I informed her that potions required consent from all living participants.
The mud potion grew progressively wetter and messier until Billie had dirt up both arms, across her forehead, on one knee, and somehow inside one ear.
I truly had no explanation for the ear.
By the time she attempted to stir with her elbow, I intervened. “I believe the potion is complete.”
“It needs a name.”
“Hmm.” I stared at the mess. “How about Mud Potion?”
“That’s too obvious.”
“Filth Elixir?”
She clapped her hands. “Yes. That’s perfect.”
Filth Elixir, naturally, ended with Billie holding the pot aloft and chanting nonsense syllables while stomping in place. Some children played at being princesses. Billie performed swamp rites.
I found her delightful. Deeply concerning, but delightful, nonetheless.
“I better head inside and take a break from this sunshine. It’s awfully bright out here today.”
Billie scowled. “If you’re going in, I’ll go in, too.”
She placed her little hand in mine and looked up at me with such admiration that I stopped in my tracks. Billie’s small hand remained in mine as she waited expectantly for me to lead her into the house.
I suddenly felt like I might cry from the innocence of it.
I shouldn’t want this as much as I did.
Children deserved mothers who grew old beside them. Mothers who tucked them into bed after eating a normal dinner with them. Mothers who didn’t drink blood to survive and spend every sunny day hiding from the sky.
I was many things, but a suitable mother wasn’t one of them. So, I pushed the idea out of my mind and focused on the task at hand—being a great nanny.
When we finally approached the back door, I stopped her at the patio. “No farther.”
She looked down at herself. “Am I too dirty?”
“You are no longer a child. You are an ecosystem.”
She beamed.
I found the garden hose coiled near the spigot and turned it on low. “Arms out.”
Billie squealed the moment cold water touched her hands, then laughed so hard she nearly fell backward. “Again!”
