Baby talk

Elder Sister has just told me to make sure that Mango talks to my belly all the time.

"But Mango doesn't really talk," I tell her. I am worried. What if the baby doesn't bond with its daddy?

"Well, you'll just have to make him talk some more now. Before Mandy was born, she would start kicking whenever her daddy came home from work." I think of my boisterous brother-in-law. Yes, that isn't hard to imagine.

As soon as Mango gets back, I mention it to him.

"What? But I do talk." He drops his jacket and bag on the floor of the hallway and leaps on my belly. "Hello baby, it's your daddy here."

"It's too young to hear you, you know." I squirm away from him but he pins me down.

"Don't mind your mummy, she is trying to keep us apart. We will gang up against her. And she will try to feed you disgusting mede-mede stuff to eat, like tree bark and soya milk..."

"And you had better eat it..."

"Yes or your mummy will beat you. I am bigger than she is but she beats me too." Mango is making kissing noises at my belly and muttering in an even lower voice. I think he is speaking French.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to baby."

I wish I had kept my mouth shut now. I'm not sure I like him clinging to my belly like this.