Say you love me

57

Being a full-time parent was harder than being a sometimes-on-the-weekends parent. Pearl was little, she was cute, but she was a handful. John loved her more than anything, maybe even more than he loved Christine, but he was exhausted. She wouldn't go to sleep without a glass of water, then she couldn't go to sleep because of the monster under her bed.
"Pearl, I don't see a monster. It's safe and sound in here."
"But Daddy! I saw him, I did! He has long fingers to eat me!" Pearl wailed in her tiny pullout sofa makeshift bed. No matter how many pillows, blankets, and sheets John piled on the bed, Pearl wouldn't go to sleep until he he promised to stay.
Christine didn't say anything about Pearl being fussy, but she it seemed like she didn't like much of anything. She wouldn't eat carrots or peas, cottage cheese, and had to be coaxed to eat the spaghetti that she said looked like worms. She would not eat tomatoes because they were "slimy", and wouldn't drink hot chocolate if it cooled and formed a skin.

And how did kids always get so dirty? One rainy afternoon Pearl had gotten out of the house when John wasn't watching. He was frantic, almost hyperventilating until he found her outside splashing in mud. The purple gingham dress she was wearing was completely brown with mud, her socks were black, and her hair was filthy.
Apparently Christine also didn't mention the fact that Pearl absolutely detested baths, because she fought and screamed and hollered when John tried to get her in the bathtub.

At least the park was peaceful. Pearl could totter happily on the swing while John watched from a distance. Did Christine ever feel this way? He had to go on tour with the band soon and couldn't take a kid with him, but there was nowhere else for her to go.
What would Christine do?

But she wasn't there to ask.