To the makers of baby clothes- Why on Earth would you put pockets in miniature clothes? What do babies need pockets for? Do they have loose change or wallets or keys? Do their hands get cold and they need to stuff them into their pockets for warmth? Do they get nervous, don’t know what to do with their hands, and their pockets are their only saving grace? I just don’t get it makers of baby clothes, please explain it to me.
And the most interesting thing in this whole pocket situation, is that I keep finding things in Kendi’s pockets. Always food.
A few days ago, we were hugging and cuddling and I noticed that her clothes felt weird. I stopped to check and realized that it was her pocket that was feeling bumpy. I put my hands into her jacket pocket- my hand could hardly fit, the pockets are so small- and out fell 3 groundnuts. 3 groundnuts?! Honestly! I turned and asked my daughter, ‘iyudo njugu kanye yawa?’ (where did you find groundnuts, surely?) Her reply was reaching out for them so that she could eat them. She wanted to eat groundnuts that we found in her pockets God only knows how long after they were originally put there. Ladies and gentlemen, my daughter Kendi- eating her way through life, one old groundnut at a time.
These are the things that keep me up at night. Specifically because this is not the only thing I have found in Kendi’s pockets. I have pulled out sweetcorn kernels, bits of bread, pieces of ugali (Kenyan bread made out of cornmeal), it’s ridiculous. Maybe this now explains why the baby looks the way she does- chubby and round- because even though she eats well at meal times, she’s hoarding quite a bit of food to eat later.
Then, there’s the fascination with my pockets. I have a cozy sweatshirt that I wear when I’m lounging at home in the evenings. It has a big pocket in the front where I sometimes put my hands in to keep warm. Kendi is so interested to know what I’m always hiding in there, that every once in a while, she comes over and sticks her hands in with mine and says, ‘Mia‘ (give me) ‘Onge gimoro‘ (there’s nothing) I always reply, removing my hands to show her, but she never believes me. Either that, or she has an incredibly short memory because after 3 minutes, she comes back, sticks her hands in my pockets and says, ‘Mia‘.