There are lots of things Q can do that I can’t.
· Go from a sitting position, to an open-hipped squat, to standing, in one fluid motion without grunting, dislocating her hips or having to rock back and forth to get enough momentum to execute the move in the first place.
· Cover herself in plum so that she looks like she’s been punched in the face and carry on as if nothing is awry.
· Whinge incessantly if things aren’t going her way. G may argue that she inherited this trait from her mother, but I don't think so. I prefer to yell.
· Find my nipples in a nuclear blackout. This trait she most definitely inherited from her father.
· Freakishly manage to double the mass of food she inhaled by the time it comes out the other end. Particularly corn.
· Say countless words including bath, baby, bye-bye, apple, banana, several animal noises and Dada, but still not Mamma to any degree of understanding.
· Limitless determination to try, try and try again until she can do it.
It is this surety of her own invincibility that I am trying to emulate as we go forward with this opening your own restaurant gig.
When do humans learn – or concede - that they might not be able to do everything?
When do we stop trying new things?
What makes us doubt our own abilities?
Q doesn’t. If there’s something she wants, someone she needs, she works, works, works until that thing or person is hers.
To be fair, some of her success is due to the capitulation of her parents, but for the most part she works towards her goal until she’s got it in her firm baby grasp.
And time for her mother to stop pussyfooting around and set her a good example.
Excuse me please, I have a business to run.