“Is that where nan and grandad live?” Freya asked as we pulled into the train station – something we do on average twice a week.
“No, they live in a house but they have to come on the train to visit us,” I replied. “This is a station, where the trains live.”
“A house like grandma and grandad?”
“Yes, like grandma and grandad.”
“With a swimming pool?”
I frowned. As far as I know Mark’s parents don’t have a swimming pool. And then I twigged.
“No, that’s not grandma and grandad’s house, that’s called a hotel. They travel from their house and stay in a hotel when they visit us because they live a long way away.”
“Can we live in a hotel?”
“Are we going to the P-word today?” She asked.
Clearly my secret code for talking to Mark about things is not as secret as I think. Just to be sure I ask: “What is the P-word?”
New secret code needed.
“Is your bike broken, mummy?” Freya asked from my bedroom doorway.
“No, this is an exercise bike,” I said looking up from reading on my Kindle app while continuing to pedal frantically (she was playing with her dad while I cycled). “It doesn’t move.”
“My bike can go outdoors,” she stated. “Maybe if you plug it in it will work?”
“It is working, it just doesn’t move. It’s helping mummy get stronger,” I said.
She looked about as confused as I have ever seen her.
Sometimes I feel the same.