Kingdom of Sparkledom - Daniel 1

Daniel had almost done it. He’d almost made it through one day without swearing in front of his six year old daughter. It had been a close run thing, he admitted. Over the past few days he’d phased out his use of some select words in favour of less controversial same-sounding nouns, such as ‘Bucket’ and ‘Duck’. He’d be able to reward himself if he lasted another half hour because story time would be fine (very few kids story books had troubling language he’d found) and he would reward himself with a half tin of lager and a Skype chat with Nadia.

He loved his daughter, he really did, but he really hadn’t thought he’d end up having to look after her during a lockdown. It’s not something you generally factor into family life. If six years ago he’d thought that there would be a set of circumstances heading his way that would threaten his career, curtail his social life and put him under arrest in his stylish but understated town house he may have thought twice about starting a family, especially starting a family with someone he then fell out with so dramatically four years later.

Daisy slurped the milk out of her Rice Krispies bowl as the next countless episode of Lost Unicorns of the Sparkle Galaxy played out over YouTube on the flatscreen. Daniel was now numb to the show’s tune, and to it’s unremitting messages of togetherness and the power of Sparkledom. He had also given up – at least for today – on the idea of getting Daisy to eat anything new or what he’d consider sensible for tea. He had only another half hour – no, twenty-five minutes now – before she’d be asleep, or at least trying to get to sleep.

Naturally he hadn’t planned to be the one with the child at this point in time. However, fate was not being too kind to him or indeed anyone else right now. It was meant to just be his weekend so as usual Daisy had been dropped off with an over-night bag, a sprinkle of toys and accoutrements – some practical, others just bizarre. Her self-packed small case, for example came with sleep friends, a plastic Peppa Pig and a rather greasy spatula, suddenly a prized possession while helping mummy make eggs that morning. Daniel had welcomed all with his usual good humour and raised eyebrows whilst making a mental note to remove and wash the spatula at the earliest chance.

Saturday had progressed as usual with a trip to the park and fun times with pizza and ice cream but that night Daniel grew worried by what he was hearing on the news. With Daisy asleep a flurry of phone calls suddenly changed the orbit of his planet as it became clear that not only was lockdown coming, but Daisy’s mum, off on a relaxing break with her partner in France, would not be able to get back in time to do the usual pick up. Indeed, might not get back at all.

“Why the hell did you go?” Daniel stormed down the phone. “Did you have no idea about what’s happening?”

“I checked everything I could,” replied Chrissy. “It’s not like I went to Italy or somewhere – as far as I could tell we’d be fine coming back.”

Daniel viewed himself as a victim or geography and a few other humanities besides, but either way, even though she made it back to the right country there was no way Chrissy was going to be able to come over and pick up Daisy just yet. 

“You’ll cope,” said Chrissy on the phone, sounding more reassuring towards him that she had for years, he thought. “You get on well and I think you’ll have fun together. Not like you’ve got anything else to do.”

“Firstly I still have a job – or at least I’m still trying to do my job,” replied Daniel. “Secondly you may have forgotten this but she hasn’t exactly come equipped for a long stay. Two changes of clothes, a Sparkledom onesie and a used spatula isn’t really enough.”

“There’s always mail order,” said Chrissy. “It’ll take a few more days than usual to get to you but I don’t mind contributing. She’d enjoy picking things out on a website too – you could go on a virtual shopping trip together, that’d be fun.”

Daniel went into the kitchen to get a cloth and wipe up the Krispie milk which had sloshed from the bowl onto the polished top of his black coffee table. He was still trying to work, still trying to adjust, still trying anything and everything but in general he felt there was no action anymore, just reaction.

By the time he got back to the front room the milk had also significantly soaked the onesie.

“Bucket,” said Daniel.