My darling daughter
Some bedtime stories Ma had to tell again and again, like Little Red Riding Hood, with its rhythmic question-and-answer ritual that me and my siblings could never get enough of. “What big eyes you have, Grandma!”... “All the better to see you with, my dear!” We drew out the pleasure of the questions for as long as we could. Grandma’s nose, hands, feet, everything we could think of, was questioned, and if Ma hadn’t stopped us, we would probably have strayed underneath Grandma’s nightgown as well. (“But Grandma, what big boobies you have. But Grandma, what a big bottom you have.”) Until at last, giddy with joy and quivering with fear, we got to Grandma’s mouth.
“All the better to eat you with, my dear!”
And the…
