Malo, almost three, had propped a plank on a cushion to send his truck down. Camille, his mum, had to catch it at the bottom and give it back. Then do it again.
He laughed at every turn. After a while, Camille knew the truck’s route better than that of the bus she had taken for eight years.
She was not particularly tired. Nothing urgent was waiting for her. She was bored playing with her child, which seemed harder to admit than lacking energy.
Malo took the truck back up.
Camille said yes with the enthusiasm of someone waiting for their number to be called at a service counter.
The same game, not the same experience
For Malo, every descent deserved attention. Sometimes he changed the position of a wheel or launched the truck with both hands. Camille mostly saw a vehicle that would arrive in the same place again.
They shared the rug, not quite the enjoyment of the game.
She loved his laugh, the way he leaned forward before the start and the confidence with which he entrusted her with his truck. She could love all that without finding the activity interesting for half an hour.
The discomfort came from an equation she would never have applied to anyone else: if she truly loved her son, she should enjoy carrying on. And if she checked the time, something must be missing in her.
Yet liking someone has never meant liking everything they do. Even when a ramp is involved.
Find a different place in the game
Camille did not need to tell Malo he was boring. He was not. It was the repeated task that no longer interested her.
She could stop a particular role without turning the moment into a judgement about him. As when we do not feel like joining a game, the boundary could concern the activity rather than the relationship.
She suggested:
Malo negotiated three. She agreed. Then he put a box at the bottom of the ramp to catch the truck without her.
Later, they could look for something they both enjoyed, mixing batter or going out to watch the roadworks. Not to make every minute fascinating, simply to avoid always choosing between forcing herself and withdrawing.
Camille sat down. Malo sent the truck into the box and looked at her to check she had seen.
She had. She no longer needed to pretend she was discovering gravity.
