The Princess was in Ireland with her father last week. When she left on Monday morning, she was sad to leave me. By the time she arrived in her grandparents’ house at lunch time, she was so excited to be there that she couldn’t spare the time to speak to me on the phone. This continued for the duration of her stay. I was amazed on Thursday, when she came back, how delighted we were to see each other. Really thrilled, big hugs, much affection.
This week, I am away for work and she has consented to speak to me on the telephone which is a great relief. This morning she said “Mummy, I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight” and I was was very touched (our girl can be a tough cookie). The first thing she asked, though, when she got on the phone, was “have you got my crunchie?”
Update – She is consistent too. The first thing she said when I arrived in the door last night was “have you got my crunchie?” “That’s no way to greet your mother or indeed anyone,” I replied. She paused smiled broadly, gave me a big hug and whispered in my ear “have you got my crunchie, please, Mummy”.
I fear my American relatives feel the same way about me. They alight from the plane after a twelve-hour journey across nine time zones and I say, “Hi, did you bring the peanut butter cups?”