Saturday’s daily moomin
Moominmama is my mothering role model. I’ll never be as patient as she is and I don’t carry a handbag but she is everything I would like to be as a mother: patient, nurturing and willing to let her little creatures adventure on without her. In “The Invisible Child,” she demonstrates how healing good parenting can be. Tomorrow’s passage will include some Moominmama but this one sets up the scenario. Incidentally, Too-ticky herself was based on Tove’s partner.
“You all know, don’t you, that if people are frightened very often, they sometimes become invisible,” Too-ticky said and swallowed a small egg mushroom that looked like a little snowball. “Well. This Ninny was frightened the wrong way by a lady who had taken care of her without really liking her. I’ve met this lady, and she was horrid. Not the angry sort, you know, which would have been understandable. No, she was the icily ironical kind.”
“What’s ironical,” Moomintroll asked.
“Well, imagine that you slip on a rotten mushroom and sit down on the basket of newly picked ones,” Too-ticky said. “The natural thing for your mother would be to be angry. But no, she isn’t. Instead she says, very coldly: ‘I understand that’s your idea of a graceful dance, but I’d thank you not to do it in people’s food.’ Something like that.”
“How unpleasant,” Moomintroll said.
“Yes, isn’t it,” replied Too-ticky. “This was the way this lady used to talk. She was ironic all day long every day and finally the kid started to turn pale and fade around the edges, and less and less was seen of her. Last Friday one couldn’t catch sight of her at all. The lady gave her away to me and said she really couldn’t take care of relatives she couldn’t even see.”
“And what did you do to the lady?” My asked with bulging eyes. “Did you bash her head?”
“That’s no use with the ironic sort,” Too-ticky said. “I took Ninny home with me, of course. And now I’ve brought her here for you to make her visible again.”
