I Found My Child’s Spoon in My Handbag

Dear Delyara, I pulled it out in the shop while looking for my card. A small metal spoon, sticky at the end, somehow travelling with me into public life like proof that motherhood has no proper borders once it gets into your body. I stared at it for a second and felt that strange mixture of amusement and sadness tired mothers know very well. Because it wasn’t only a spoon. It was one more sign that I am carrying everybody everywhere all the time, often literally. I put it back in the bag because I didn’t know what else to do with it. That felt symbolic too.