I'm five years old. Actually I'm almost six, I'm five years and ten months. I still go to kindergarten, but next year I'm going to go to school. Then I'm going to learn how to read and write, though I do know a few letters already. Then I won't have to ask my mom to read me bed time stories anymore, I'll be able to read them all by myself. My mom doesn't like reading me bed time stories. At least the half of my mom that is always there in the evening. That sounds weird, huh... Well, I have two moms, but not like you think, it's just that my mom has two sides, one mom that laughs and tells stories and one mom that cries.
Mom works at the bakery in town. We live in a really small town. I know that it's small because mom took me to see grandma last summer and grandma and grandpa live in a big city. There were so many cars and the houses were so big, I almost couldn't see where the top was.
Every morning, my mom walks me to kindergarten, and she tells me stories on the way. It's not very far, only one story long, sometimes she even has to stop in the middle, just when it gets really exciting. But it's not too bad, because when she picks me up again, during her lunch break, she always tells the rest of the story or a new one. We don't go home, we go to the bakery where mom works, because I can't stay alone in our apartment. She's always so happy and funny when she works. She stands at the register and smiles a lot and talks to the people who come in the shop to buy some donuts or just coffee. She knows all the people that come into the shop because she's worked there for a long time. She talks to them, asks about their children and pets and when they have a problem they often ask her what she thinks. Mom always helps people. I think she should be a doctor or a teacher because she always knows what to do.
There is a lot for me to do at the bakery, it's not boring at all. I have my own little corner, because I'm there every day. I brought some books and crayons and my favorite marbles. When there aren't any people at the bakery and my mom has time for me she reads a story with me. My favorite book is Grimm's fairy tales. Sometimes my friend Benjamin comes with his mom and then we can play with our marbles while our moms talk. I almost always beat Benjamin at marbles, but he always beats me when we play Uno.
When my mom is finished with work we walk home. It's not far, not even far enough for one story. That's when my mom just shows me stuff. One time she showed me a really big and pretty snail that was crawling along the edge of the road. And another time she showed me a wild carrot. You can really eat it, but it doesn't look like it. My mom really knows a lot.
When we get home mom cooks dinner and I watch TV. After dinner I have to get into my pajamas and wash my face and brush my teeth. I even have to brush my hair, but I don't really know why.
Then, it's almost always the same.
I ask my mom to read me a bed time story.
She says she's tired. Or she says, not tonight.
At first I asked again and again, but she wouldn't, no matter how long I asked. Then she would get a bit mad and send me to bed. Now I just ask because I always ask.
I go to bed and sleep.
One time I couldn't sleep. I was still really thirsty and I got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. When you go from my room to the kitchen you have to go by the living room. That's when I saw mom, sitting there. I almost didn't recognize her. She was so tiny. She sat in a corner of the couch and had her arms around her knees. She was really quiet. I almost didn't see the tears that made her cheeks all wet. I went into the room very quietly. She didn't see me. I don't think she saw anything. You know how sometimes you just stare and don't even think? Mom always says I'm growing when I do that. I don't believe that. I tried to stare like that for a whole afternoon, and afterwards I was still as tall as before.
I touched her hand and she looked up, looking surprised.
She asked me why I was still up.
I told her that I couldn't sleep. I asked her why she cried.
“Oh baby,” she said, “I don't know.”
I didn't understand that, but mom told me that maybe one day I would know why, but that she didn't want that to happen. I didn't understand that either.
She brought me to bed and kissed me good night and tucked me in real tight. She probably didn't want me to get up again.
The next morning she was my other mom again. On the way to kindergarten she told me a really great story about a dragon and a village that trapped the dragon with candy. It was the same as usual.
Most of the time I'm really happy with my mom. And she's happy too. She laughs and asks Mr. Miller about his cat Sally. She tells me stories and listens when I explain how I just had to push David into the muddy puddle.
Only when I can't sleep and I see my mom sitting in the living room crying, I'm sad.
Then I get a glass of water, go back to bed, and cry too.

