She is cute, I guess, even if I don't know what he sees in her.
But I can't think that, because that's not polite, it's not a nice thought.
So I don't. I just sit here, quietly, thinking about how she is kind of cute.
Even though she isn't.
But that's not important, what's important is that I'm thinking good thoughts and being a good girl and behaving. Dad doesn't like it when I misbehave.
I'm a good girl, I promise. I don't shout, I don't run indoors, I don't let my dresses get dirty and I do all my homework on time. All the teachers say I'm a good girl. They say I'm a delight. Dad always nods and smiles, a tight little smile that's never for them, even if they sometimes smile back.
They still leave, even if I'm a good girl, but that's not my fault. I'm always nice to them, I promise.
Even if they are trying to be Mum.
They are not allowed to, you know. Mum was mum and is mum and can't be anybody else.
So I don't let them.
That's still being a good girl, isn't it?
Of course it is. I'm following the rules.
It's them, they are the ones trying to be bad.
Only they don't get timeout and their toys taken away, but that's because dad always forgets.
It doesn't matter, though, because I remember for him.
I'm a good girl, I promise.
Even if sometimes dad thinks I'm not, but that's because he doesn't remember that they have to be punished, doesn't remember they are being bad.
He always remembers I'm a good girl in the end, though, and even if they leave he stays with me.
Of course he does.
I'm a good girl. He's my dad.
And they are not my mum, but that's ok, because I remember they are not.
She is cute, I guess. She looks nice, but they always look nice, and they never are.
She smiles at me, and I smile back. She doesn't know how to smile right, hers is big and floppy, and stupid. I don't like her. I can tell she's going to be bad.
But that's ok, because I only have to wait until she is, and then it'll be bye-bye again.
And it'll be just daddy and me.