I don't know why, but whenever I go to cuddle The Most Adorable Granddaughter in the World#2 her sister gets upset. "No, don't pick her up," she cries.
I've not been able to figure out why.
I've been making sure that I give The Most Adorable Granddaughter in the World#1 lots of extra cuddles and attention but all to no avail. Everyone else can cuddle her baby sister except me.
Today when I was sitting on my bed desperately trying to proofread my book for what I hope is the last time, The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1 came in and threw her arms around my neck, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and said, "I love you."
Immediately suspicious - because The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1 has never been what you would term "generous" with her kisses or cuddles - I asked her who told her to do that.
"Uncle#4," she replied.
I had guessed as much. She'll do anything for him.
Later, I was spending time with The Most Adorable Granddaughter#2 (not daring to pick her up of course!) and getting lots of smiles in return when I asked The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1 if she was going to let her other granny cuddle her baby sister when they saw her today.
"Yes," said The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because she's nice," replied The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1.
"Why?" I asked again, hoping that I might get some insight into why she doesn't want me to hold her sister.
"Because she's special," replied The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1.
O-kay.
My book hasn't rejected me - although I'm coming close to rejecting it! - but this past week I have realised that writing a book is very much like giving birth to a baby. It's a long slow process that you think will never end. And then comes the day when you've finally finished - you've given birth so to speak - and you think the hard part's done and everything from here on is easy.
Wrong.
Because getting a book published is a lot like raising kids. You send them out into the world and hope that the world will be kind to them.
This past week, as I've proofread through my book countless times, I've come to hate it. Yes. I H-A-T-E my book. My own creation. It's like a teenager that I'm preparing to face the world on its own. I know it's not quite ready but I can't stop the inevitable and it's driving me insane anyway and I just want it to leave home and leave me in peace!
Actually, I've never felt like that about any of my teens, but I think the analogy still holds.
I've done my duty. I've read through it. I've corrected the mistakes. Hopefully I've helped make it better. Very soon it will be on its own in the big wide world and it will be too late for me to change it.
I wonder how it will fare?
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