Take Care of You

Just Be

January

We came home the day after New Years, Louisa bought an awful stomach bug with her and has been bedridden for the last two days. By the tone of the stuck up medical nurse, she didn't believe me when I said she wouldn't be in attendance because of this, but I'm past giving a fuck about what they think.

Work kicks off as normal, the same old new year meetings about the agendas for the week. Times like these I'm grateful to be working from home, so I can juggle looking after Lou without taking time off as well. During a break, I use the upstairs bathroom and hear pop music playing in Louisa's bedroom. I cautiously tiptoe across to her door, it's already ajar, so I slowly push it open a little further to see what's going on. "We're soaring! Flying! There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach!" I can't say that I'm surprised to find Lou in her pink fairy outfit, dancing around the room to High School Musical playing on her TV. I knew playing that goddamn Greatest Showman when she was born would ruin her for life. She is lost in her own little world, and doesn't notice me as I step inside her room. She does a very impressive somersault and cartwheel, I almost want to applaud and bow down to her.

"What happened to your stomach bug?" I say in a stern voice, trying to hide the amusement from my face.

She is midway punching her little fists in the air and quickly whips around when she hears me.
"I feel a bit better now, daddy," her face is angelic. She says in a weak voice, and a puppy dog eyed face to go with it.

"Is that so?" I raise my eyebrows at her, glancing at the Little Mix clock on the wall. "Well, it's only 10:30am. We can take you back to school."

"No, no. I don't want to go back to school!" She cries, throwing herself to the floor.

"Do you think I like having to turn my laptop on and work? I don't. But I do it for you. For us, so we have a roof over our heads. You need to go to school for your education," I say in a reasonable tone, opening up her wardrobe door.

"No! I hate school! I hate the teachers and I hate Anthony Murphy!" She yells, her cheeks red raw and flooded with tears.

"Remember what I told you about that word? We don't hate anyone. Other than Hitler and creepy men," I tell her, as she folds into herself and covers her face from me.

"Anthony hates me," she murmurs.

"Do you want me to go and see Mrs Rourke about him again?" I sigh, sitting cross legged next to her.

"No, she hates me too," she sniffles, clenching her fists.

"I want you to stop with this hate thing. Nobody hates you and you don't hate anyone. Some people get a kick out of teasing others it's a fact of life. You have to learn to ignore it," I urge her.

"You don't have to see him every day, do you?" She replies with a stutter.

"No. But in life, you are going to come across people you don't like. I work with people that I don't necessarily get on with, but you don't see me calling in sick every day," I know everything I'm saying with fall on deaf ears but it's the only way I can try.

"I don't want to go that to school anymore," she continues with more muffled sobs.

It grates on me to see her in such distress, schools are meant to be fun and safe places for children to go and learn. I shouldn't have to be dealing with a screaming child everyday.

"Lou, I will go into the school tomorrow after I've dropped you off and I'm going to have a serious discussion with Mrs Rourke. I have had it with that school now!" I exhale angrily.

"But, dad..." she starts to mutter as the doorbell rings.

"Hold that thought. Turn that crappy movie off and do some homework," I tell her, getting up from the floor.