Will she keep that broken chair?

Please madam, on the next time don’t bring the children, says the dressmaker after her chair was half broken, her sofa tasted jumping feet for the first time and her mirror survived to the worst attack it had ever had in its life. No, I promise, I will not bring them anymore. I say to her while looking for the coat of the little one. ‘Mum, coat, coat’ he tells me. I look at him. He’s wearing his coat since one hour. He never removed it. Maybe he knew already this place wouldn’t be the most children-friendly in the world. It’s not because I don’t like children, madam, she goes on telling me while opening the door as a person who lets out from her house the worst creatures in the world.It’s simply that it is impossible to do something with these…always moving creatures around. One screams, the other yells, the third one jumps everywhere. Yes, you are totally right, I tell her and I give the hand to my three little devils. It is indeed really hard to do something with them around, I go on repeating while giving every child his/her opportunity to call the elevator and catching the little one while trying to go down by the stairs maybe knowing how he will be squeezed inside the elevator with all his brothers and sisters.. You are not offended, aren’t you? she tells me while looking at me with rigid eyes. If they could just sit down and stay calm, she adds, it could have have been much easier…and I know what she means. Beacuse trying to understand if the dress you are sewing fits you or not while three children create energy from nothing in a room that is big as the smallest toilet of your house, is really a challenge. They cannot sit for so long, I tell her while closing the elevator doors. I imagine she is reliefed. Or maybe she is not. Becuase there, in her tiny apartment, she had never had a baby hand spreading chocolate on a white chair. Or baby lips kissing her goodnight after a long day. And now that is is 75, she has all the time in the world to set up the house again. After the storm. Or maybe she will just sit down on the sofa and think where to keep. The broken chair. That will remind until her last day on this earth the big loss that she had. She had a carreer, she was very good in her job. And for the cause of her profession she didn’t want to have children. She is right. And I am so sorry for her. No one is more noisy than children at this age. But this noise, I can see in her eyes, is the leg of the chair she is missing so much. Unfortunately for her, it is too late…

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