My Baby, the World and all its Sounds

I like to listen to

the sound of water

pattering

down from the

sky. It's washing the

the whole world, it's washing

me—I'm sitting in

the bathtub with my

baby on my knees. I

pop the kettle on,

it starts to boil, singing,

skipping, happy, from the

spout—I dance along,

around the kitchen with

my baby o n

my hip. We like

the warmth of

our cosy

home—I make a

cup of tea and

a hot water bottle

and w e cradle it,

my child and me. I

tell her all about

the world—the

snow, the rainbows

and the clouds—

the ocean, where the

whales and dolphins—

and the fish—all

swim about. I tell

my baby that I

made her, in my

belly, lovingly, and

when she came

into the world we

cried with so much

love and life. I

tell my baby that

I like to listen to

the sound of

water. She doesn't

understand the words

I'm saying, but I

think she likes to

listen

to the sound of

when I talk—she

smiles and laughs. We

like to listen

to the sounds.