There’s a rare, precious thing in our house. It’s new and barely used. It glistens and twinkles like a fresh pearl.
So new and rare is this precious thing, that we don’t get to see it much. It hides away until, occasionally – on incredibly special occasions – it is brought forth, like the best family china.
During the whole course of my life I have only experienced the rarity of this sacred offering four times. Just four times. On each of these four occasions I closed my eyes and drank it in, safe in the knowledge I’d be unlikely to see it again tomorrow.
The (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine has only seen it fleetingly. But just that one, quick time was enough for him to grin broadly from ear to ear. It’s so sweet and rare and precious that he couldn’t help it.
It’s a difficult thing to accept though, that once the experience is over it may take years to return again. When something is such a treat and glitters like pure crystal, it’s hard to let it go.
So the NLM has been searching high and low for it for the last couple of weeks. His attempts to find an excuse to see it are getting more and more desperate. He’s a man on the edge.
Eagerly asking if I thought there was any chance of him seeing the precious gift this evening, he accepted defeat when I shook my head. So, as the NLM bid goodnight to his daughter he turned to leave, downcast. He’d given up hope of ever seeing the rare treat again.
But his spirits soared when, just ahead of him, a glint of hope appeared, twinkling like a lone star on a dark, dark night.
“Can I have a kiss tonight then Frog?” He asked our two year old. Clearly expecting a firm no, he was visibly shaken with joy when she puckered up, lifting her head towards him.
And then, just at the last minute, when his lips were about to brush hers, Frog turned her head away, as quick as lighting.
“No kiss Daddy,” She pronounced. “Poor Daddy. Night!”
The NLM’s search for the Holy Grail of kisses remains, for another day at least.