I notice your eyes and your beautiful smile.

They are for me.  You have made perfect eye contact.

You look at my mouth, still smiling.

You wait in anticipation because you know I know what you want.

I say the word. Pu-dding.

You look at me and smile because you know I know that’s what you want.

I will you to make the small movements of your mouth.

To form the ‘pu’ then the ‘dding’.

I see you watch me.  I see you watch the movements my mouth can make.

Your mouth moves.  Are you going to do it?

A part of me begins to surge with excitement, a glimmer of hope.

I say it again.  Pu-dding.

Your smile fades.

You become agitated. You wriggle in your chair.  You want down.

You’re frustrated because you know I know what you want but I’ve not given it to you yet.

You know I want you to say it.  But you can’t.

You can’t say the word. ‘Pudding’. Or ‘Mummy’.  Or ‘Daddy’. Or ‘I love you’.

Maybe tomorrow.  There is always tomorrow.