I sit at the kitchen table eating my toast, and look up at a picture on the wall of Dolly at around 7 months old - cute, and smiley, and relatively tame. I reminisce fondly about her baby days; her being content with just a teaspoon to play with for hours on end, while gazing at me and Tom lovingly, and smiling sweetly at her sister.
'MUMMEEEEE' shakes me rudely from my thoughts. I see Dolly, standing at the world map poster on the wall. 'I will live here' she says, pointing at North America. 'I will live here' she says again, as if labouring the point, and still pointing at America.
When I got to about 17 years of age, I had hankerings to move away from my hometown, onto to somewhere more exciting. Dolly has just turned two.
'And you, and Daddy, and Betty will live here' Dolly says, pointing to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.